


Atonement

by MsCFH



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-03
Updated: 2012-09-17
Packaged: 2017-11-11 08:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 42,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/476686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsCFH/pseuds/MsCFH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Quinn was severely hurt in the accident, Rachel feels it's her responsibility to take care of Quinn. To make atonement. AU; post "On My Way"; Re-Write</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was sort of frustrated with how Quinn's post "On My Way" storyline was handled in the show, so here is my version of what I would have liked to see happen.   
> The story will is AU since I'm definitely taking another direction than the actual show did.   
> Big thanks goes to my awesome beta Jenn!

The silence in the car was deafening. Burt Hummel flexed his hands around the steering wheel tighter. His fingers itched to reach over and turn on the radio, but he knew that none of the teenagers that rode with him would appreciate music very much at the moment.

Next to him sat a completely distraught Rachel Berry. She was still in her wedding dress and her knees were pulled up to her body, some dark stains from what Burt guessed used to be her make up had ruined the white fabric.

In the row behind him Kurt, Blaine, Finn and Santana had squeezed in. None of them had spoken a word for the last thirty miles or so. Kurt had rested his head on Blaine's shoulder, both of them looking devastated, Finn seemed completely out of place as he nervously kept on tapping his feet on the floor and Santana just stared out the window with an emotionless face.

The news about Quinn Fabray's accident had hit the group just as half of the wedding party had been about to leave or already left the non-reception. A few hours before the wedding had been canceled and the few remaining people poked around in their rest of their food as they listened to Rachel one more time expressing her extreme discontent with the fact that the next available wedding date wasn't for another three months. That was when an apathetic Santana had found her way back into the city hall.

In halting words the girl recited what she had just heard on the phone from her mother. There had been an accident on Diller Road in the afternoon. That was the reason why Quinn hadn't shown up earlier and effectively stopped the wedding from happening.

Right then the whole previous scene came to halt. It took another five seconds or so before complete chaos spread amongst the teenagers. Almost at the same time everyone started talking. Rachel was in front of Santana in an instant demanding to hear what exactly the cheerleader knew. Pleading her to report every single thing she had been told.

The first coherent words after the initial shock of the news had set in came also from the bride. She implored) that they go to the hospital right away. The short brunette didn't seem to care that she was still in her wedding dress, that she didn't have a car or let alone knew which hospital to go to, she was already on her way to the door, the rest of her friends right behind her a moment later.

It took him, Carol and the Berry men quite some energy, but they managed to convince the worried crowd that it would be best if they all split into different cars and that one of the adults drove, after they had found out what hospital Quinn had been brought to of course. After all, one of the kids injured in an accident was already too much.

It took them a while to find out, but around 9:30 that night they were on the interstate towards Toledo. Right behind him there were two more cars bringing a bunch of teenagers to their friend in the hospital. Burt just hoped that they would receive some good news there.

...

Pulling off her surgical gloves and face mask Anne Weiss stepped out of the OR, where she immediately reached for the phone to call the number that had appeared on her pager several times for the past hour.

"I need you to talk to the poly-trauma's mother. She's waiting in the east wing conference room," was the curt instruction from the other end, by her least favorite ER nurse Paula.

The surgeon rubbed a hand over her face in an exhausted gesture, but confirmed and let Paula know that she would be there shortly.

She had only just finished the poly-trauma's – Quinn Fabray's – surgery. Or better yet, her part of the surgery. As soon as she was finished her orthopedic colleagues had taken over, tending to the girls several broken bones. She had only briefly seen the x-rays and scans that weren't in any way neurologically important, but from what she had seen the left side of the girl's body had suffered some really bad damage. From what she gathered from her colleagues talking, there was even a complete replacement of her hip joint considered; safe to say that the girl wouldn't be out of surgery any time soon.

Four hours had already passed since they had brought Quinn Fabray to the trauma center in Toledo via helicopter. The fighting between the different medical specialist had begun as soon as the first

MRI pictures were available, showing what injuries were of capital importance to be sub-served.

They finally came to the conclusion that the ruptured spleen was the biggest source of bleeding and had to be taken care of first. Dr. Weiss herself as a neurosurgeon had been second.

Anne brushed a hand through her hair before she entered the conference room. She held on to her clipboard tightly as she approached the woman who sat with her back facing towards her. "Mrs. Fabray?"

The blonde woman immediately got up and turned towards the surgeon. The doctor approached the blonde who was roughly her own age. "Hi, I'm Dr. Weiss."

"Judy Fabray." A tight smile and a handshake were returned. "Can you give me any news on my daughter?"

"She is still in surgery," Dr. Weiss answered and courteously pulled Mrs. Fabray's chair back. "Why don't we sit down and I will fill you in on her actual state."

Judy complied without any response, as she sat down and looked at her expectantly. Anne hated that look on family members. Like they were expecting her to tell that she was a good fairy who magically healed everything with a wave of her wrist.

"Quinn's condition is very serious," she began carefully once she had taken a seat on the large table as well. "Aside from several broken bones, including her upper arm, collar bone, femoral bone, several ribs and a ruptured spleen she also suffered a very severe trauma on her spine."

"What do you mean by severe trauma?" Her patients mother sat bolt upright in her chair, as she continuously ran the tip of her finger over the rim of her coffee mug.

"It took some time for the rescue workers to get to the crash scene and then get her out of the car."

Dr. Weiss rubbed her palms together in a nervous pattern, withholding the information that according to the paramedics, Quinn had been conscious for at least a short part of that. "Her second and third lumbar vertebrae were broken."

"That was what the surgery is for though isn't it?" Mrs. Fabray asked. "Fixing that."

Dr. Weiss leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table's surface. "Yes. Now, luckily the spinal cord wasn't cut through. However the nerves suffered from the pressure that the broken bones put on them. Right now there is no nerve impulse below her second lumbar vertebra and it looks like we're facing a permanent paraplegia."

"I see." The blonde's lips formed a thin line but, other than that the neutral expression on her face didn't slip for as long as a second.

Dr Weiss cursed internally. No sensitivity training in the world could prepare you to give news like this. "Mrs Fabray, we offer-" Her attempt to refer Judy Fabray to crisis counseling was cut short by the woman interrupting her.

"Is it possible to tell when Quinn will be out of surgery?"

"She might be in the OR until the early morning."

The blonde only gave her a forced smile and rose from her seat. "Thank you, doctor."

Dr. Weiss didn't even have a chance to escort the woman out of the room but simply looked after her feeling worn out as Judy Fabray rushed out of the room without one more word.

...

"Fabray, her name is Fabray! F as in Foxtrot, A as in Alpha, B as-"

The guy behind the information desk interrupted Rachel's demonstration of the phonetic alphabet rudely. "I got the name the first time, but like I already said, I can't give you any information if you're not a family member or a legal guardian."

With those words he shut the milky window to his desk, blocking the crazy teenager in the wedding dress out of his work space.

Feeling physically and emotionally drained with every minute that passed Rachel dragged herself back to the waiting area where the rest of what originally had been her wedding party was spread. It was eleven at night and most of them were either already sleeping or on the brink, but every single one of them had profusely refused to go home.

"It's ridiculous," Kurt remarked taking a seat next to her. "Obviously there is none of Quinn's family here and we are the next closest thing. They could at least tell us if she's okay."

While the brunette contemplated the words her best friend was saying, she couldn't make sense of them or even reply. Her mind kept going back and spinning around the last conversation she had had with Quinn. Analyzing every single one of her feelings during it. How happy she had been when the blonde had agreed to come to the wedding and be her bridesmaid. Right now Rachel wanted to throw up when she thought about what kind of righteous feeling of satisfaction that agreement had evoked within her. That she had gotten Quinn Fabray to change her mind.

"It is my fault," Rachel whispered only loud enough for her best friend to hear and tears welled up in her eyes.

"No!" Kurt shook his head urgently as he clasped Rachel's hand between his own. "Stop that right now."

A sob worked it's way up the girl's throat for what was probably the fiftieth time that day and her whole body began to shake. "But it is."

"Rachel-"

She didn't give him a chance to speak. She had to say it out loud or she was afraid it would choke her slowly. "It was me who talked her into coming to the wedding, she never approved of it in the first place. And when she wasn't on time I was the one who told her to hurry, probably causing her to speed or not pay attention and now we are here in this freaking waiting room and they won't even tell us if she is alive!"

Once again Rachel found herself in an almost hysterical fit of tears that wouldn't subside until she literally had to gasp for air. Kurt's helpless attempt to calm her by putting an arm around her only had her crying even harder.

...  


When Quinn blinked her eyes open, the bright fluorescence light of the room hurt her eyes causing her to squeeze them shut again immediately. Consciousness and the memory of what happened only slowly re-appeared, just as she slowly came to notice the pain all over her body.

The relief that she apparently hadn't died like she had feared she would when she was losing consciousness in the wreck of her car only lasted a moment. When she moved her head to the side in attempts to not look directly into the synthetic light the next time she tried to open her eyes, a major wave of pain rolled over her.

She groaned in agony, forcing her eyes open anyway. When the sight on her left eye seemed restricted she first felt how the left side of her face throbbed with pain. The conclusion that it was probably swollen came to her mind shortly after.

Her sight was blurry, but she would have recognized a female blond, delicate figure sitting next to her. She opened her mouth to address her but found her mouth heavy and dry. It took two more attempts and clearing of her throat for a husky "Mom?" to leave her lips.

"No honey, she'll be here later." As her vision grew a little clearer she could see that a strange woman was at her bedside. The woman took her relatively uninjured right hand between her own two. "How are you feeling, Quinn? Are you in pain? Do you remember what happened?"

It was too many questions at once for Quinn's still slightly drugged brain to catch up on, so she settled on just answering the last one. "Truck hit me."

"Yes, that it was happened. It's good you are awake now and talking, that means there is no major damage to your brain."

"What time is it?" Quinn asked, trying to gather as much as information as possible while she was conscious, feeling that she would soon drift off again.

"It's Sunday morning 2:43. You just got out of surgery. I'll give you some more pain medication to help you sleep over the worst of it."

Again Quinn would have liked to answer, but didn't find herself able to yet. She mulled over the nurses last sentence one more time. Drugs and sleep sounded heavenly. She would have liked to ask what exactly she needed surgery for and how bad the damage was, but the exhaustion combined with the pain killer starting to set in had her eyes drifting shut again.

...  


"You guy's friend's of Quinn?"

Rachel's head shot up immediately. She was disappointed not to see a doctor in front of her, but only a casually dressed guy wearing a Brown hoodie. She lowered her eyes again, since looking directly in the bright light of the room only intensified the headache she harbored from crying for the last couple of hours. Meanwhile someone in the room – was it Puck? Everything seemed so blurry to Rachel – affirmed the guys question.

"I'm her brother-in-law. Ben."

And with that statement the man had managed to catch Rachel's full attention.

She wanted nothing more than to ask him all the questions that had been torturing her ever since she had heard about the accident, but when another few seconds passed and she was still unable to form words, she realized that maybe she didn't want to know. Unsure if she could handle bad news. She didn't know if she could handle any news that wasn't good.

Her second try wasn't futile either. It was like she lost the ability to form words. Her lips were as dry as sandpaper and her tongue seemed to be stuck to the roof of her mouth.

Rachel was thankful when someone else got up the courage.

"How is Quinn? Is she gonna be okay?"

The second it took him to form an answer felt like the longest in Rachel's entire existence.

"She's alive."

Rachel slumped back against her seat, barely aware of the sigh of relief that went through the room and an sound mixed between a cry and sob. It was only then that she noticed a few worried looks into her direction that she realized that weird noise had escaped her lips.

To her left, Rachel was surprised to spot Santana in a nearly squatted position in the arms of her girlfriend. The cheerleader had been pacing the floor for the last few hours without even stopping once.

"How bad is it?"

Ben sighed. "All I know is that she's still in surgery." The man huffed in a frustrated way. "They are not really concerned with keeping me well informed either. Apparently with this hospital's policy you have to have the same last name to be considered close family."

Something dangerous flashed in Santana's eyes, only on a second look Rachel noticed that it was something like protectiveness. "Well where are they? Where exactly are Judy and Fran?"

Ben sighed. "When we got here a few hours ago, Judy was really upset. We only wanted to drop her off at the hotel room and come back here, but she refused to let Fran go. Judy was really … indisposed. Hence why I'm here. Waiting for news."

Rachel might have not been friends with Quinn for a long, but the few things she had picked up over time let her assume that indisposed probably meant that Mrs. Fabray was strongly intoxicated.

...  


It was Sunday morning when Quinn woke for a longer period of time again. The expression 'feeling like she'd been hit by a train' still fit her current general state pretty well, even though it was 'just' a big truck that had hit her.

She opened and closed her eyes repeatedly and even drifted off again a few times, but in the end she succeeded to stay awake and found a dishwasher blond woman sitting next to her bed side. Judging by the scrubs and white coat her first guess was that this woman was a doctor.

"You're my doctor?" she asked, hating how croaked and weak her voice sounded.

The woman nodded. "One of them, yes. My name is Weiss. I was one of the surgeons that operated on you after your accident."

Hazel eyes fell onto the doctor's name tag, Neurosurgeon.

"You're here to explain to me why I can't feel or move my legs?" Quinn might have been groggy, in pain and drugged up to her hair line but even through all of that she hadn't failed to notice the lack of any ability to move her legs.

The doctor nodded and the soft smile from before vanished and in it's place was a serious expression. "You had two broken vertebrae. In the surgery I managed to fix the bones and release the pressure they put on your spinal cord, but the nerves have still suffered gravely."

"By the look on your face, I gather that this isn't something that will just sort itself out on it's own within two weeks," Quinn stated dryly.

It was hard not to, but she didn't allow herself to have anything but rational thoughts about the news. She couldn't. Allowing herself to think about the fact that she would be paralyzed from this day on, was too much.

"The nerves were squeezed for too long." Dr. Weiss tilted her head and sighed. "I wish I had better news for you, Quinn. I really do."

Quinn simply closed her eyes hoping she would slip back into the former drug induced, blurry state of mind. "Yeah, me too."

...

Rachel felt exhausted, her back hurt and she had come to the conclusion that there was no position left in which she would be somewhat comfortable on the chairs in the waiting area. Almost thirteen hours had passed now and there was only a hand full of people left. Alongside Rachel only Santana, Brittany, Sam and Puck had resisted trying to get home and rest.

Rachel was determined to not set a foot out of this hospital until she had valuable news on Quinn. In fact the only time Rachel had left the waiting area for longer than the usual five minute bathroom break was to switch from her wedding dress to a pair of sweatpants and shirt that her daddy had gotten her from the hospital's gift-shop.

For that she had been very thankful. As much as she had loved the wearing the dress prior to everything that had happened, Rachel was happy to get out of the thing. Apart from the fact that it was an entirely inappropriate thing to wear in a hospital, it had felt like the fabric had been suffocating her for some time now and the thought of seeing Quinn for the first time and still wearing it, also felt completely wrong.

She hadn't even bothered to treat it carefully or put it in the provided clothes bag. To be completely honest, Rachel felt the urge to burn the damn thing altogether. It was like everything connected to the wedding reminded her over and over again why they were here. That it was her fault that Quinn was in the hospital.

She had encouraged Finn to go home as well for that very same reason. He had left with a mumbled promise to be back as soon as possible and told her to call him in case anything happened. After all what to remind her more of the damn wedding than the man, who actually was supposed to be her husband right now.

The last bits of conversation had died down a few hours ago. Talking about trivial things seemed absolutely inappropriate given the current situation, but talking about Quinn and what had happened was emotionally straining on everyone as well, so they had settled for an according to circumstances comfortable silence.

Life only came back into the waiting group when seemingly out of nowhere Quinn's mom appeared in the waiting area. The woman looked as proper as ever, no signs of the complete breakdown Ben had hinted at. Only the bright blue lady's suit she wore was a bit wrinkled, other than that her appearance was flawless. Perfect make-up and not a single strand of hair out of place.

It was Rachel and Santana who were at the older woman's side immediately, assailing her with questions.

"Are you going to see Quinn?"

"How is Quinn?"

"What did the doctor's say?"

"Is she going to be alright?"

"Will you tell Quinn we've been waiting here all night?"

"When can we see Quinn?"

The blonde woman only eyed the girls slowly seemingly looking right through them, which left Rachel wondering briefly if maybe the reason why Quinn's mother seemed so calm was some kind of tranquillizer.

"We are on our way to see her right now," a younger blonde who Rachel assumed was Quinn's sister, cut in. She had caught up with her mother and hooked her arm under her mother's, leading her to the ICU entrance in a decisive way. "I'll fill you girls in on everything after we've seen her, alright?"

It wasn't an answer that satisfied any of the waiting teenagers, but they didn't have a chance but to comply. They had already waited over twelve hours, they would make it through a little more. Rachel got back to her seat and pulled her knees to herself. At least this time they wouldn't have to wait for a completely indefinite time.

...  


The way Quinn kept on staring stubbornly ahead, scared the shit out of Fran. She had been at her sister's bedside for about forty minutes now and the earlier relief to see her sister alive had been replaced with dread. Quinn seemed completely apathetic and gave monosyllable answers at the most. When the doctor had explained to her the full extent of her baby sister's injuries, Fran had reached out with tears in her eyes to take Quinn's hand and offer her some sort of comfort, only to have her pull away and turn her head to the other side.

The silence in the room made Fran anxious. Technically she was the most emotionally stable in the room right now, but the previous night she had spent taking care of her mother didn't fail to leave its marks on her. Her mother had been wasted in a way that Fran had never experienced before. Furthermore Judy seemed to have a kind of anxiety attack where she didn't want to let Fran leave her side. Afraid that if she would let her go, something would happen to her oldest daughter as well.

It took a strong Valium and a shot of whiskey from the mini bar to get her mother out of the hotel room at all this morning.

Fran's eyes fell back on her sister. Her heart clenched when she thought about the delicate features of Quinn's face that had been replaced by dark, swollen brusies.

"Quinn, please talk to me," she pleaded one more time, almost giving up hope to get anything but yes-no answers out of her sister today. "Is there anything I can get you? Are you in pain? Do you need anything?"

The younger girl barely shook her head, still not the slightest hint of emotion on her face.

Fran reached for her sisters hand again, not giving her a chance to pull away this time. "It's okay to cry, you know?"

Quinn kept on staring ahead.

If her mother hadn't been so out of it Fran would have liked to scream at her. At which point during raising her had they screwed up to where Quinn would close down every time she was threatened to show the least bit of weakness. Fran gave her mother a firm look, silently encouraging her to say something and not just sit there, like the passion of Christ.

Judy cleared her throat briefly and a clearly forced but still genuine smile was on her lips. "You know Santana, Brittany and a bunch of other guys are outside waiting to see you, Quinnie. Would you like me to go and get them?"

Quinn's head snapped in her sister's direction so quickly, Fran almost flinched. Her eyes darted between Judy and Fran. "They are here? What did you tell them? Why are they here?"

Fran didn't know if Quinn's sudden panic was that much of a progress to her former indifference. It seemed like Quinn would start hyperventilating any second. In what she hoped was a soothing matter, Fran reached out and cupped the right – less injured side of Quinn's face. "Calm down, Quinn. They heard about your accident and want to know how you are. If you are okay."

"You have to make them leave!" Quinn insisted, looking at her sister with big teary eyes. "Please Frannie."

Under different circumstances Fran would have reprimanded her sister for the use of the nickname she despised. Moreover Quinn did seem terrified. She crooked her head and carefully started to run her fingers through Quinn's short hair. "They are worried about you, Quinn. And they have been here all night."

"I don't care. I don't want them to see me like this." Quinn's voice was firm, but her sister didn't fail to notice the desperate plea in it. "Please Fran, go out there and tell them to leave. They can't find out about this." She underlined the last word with an only too clear gesture towards her legs.

"What am I supposed to tell them? They are desperate to see you. They won't just leave because I tell them to," Fran tried to argue the best she could. She wasn't too keen on Quinn's idea. It was such a typical Fabray way of thinking. Not letting anybody see you in a weak state. Not allowing anybody to comfort you. If it was up to her, she would have sent the whole damn glee club in at once. Her sister needed distraction. What she didn't need was staring at the ceiling and thinking about her condition all day long.

"You haven't told anyone yet, have you?" Quinn looked like that prospect was enough to send her into a panic attack and so Fran shook her head instantly.

It wasn't like she didn't understand what stood behind her request. It was astonishing Quinn even allowed anyone in the room right now, considering her current vulnerability. Quinn wasn't someone who liked to be dependent on other people; the sisters had that pretty much in common. With parents who were emotionally unavailable to both of them, they had learned early on that it was better to not depend on other people.

So everything about her situation had to be unbearable for Quinn. Fran could see her sister's motivation clearly; she didn't want to be pitied. And it didn't really matter if it really was affection she mistook for compassion. It would all be the same in her eyes. She wouldn't be able to stand the attention telling anyone would bring along. Not until she had had some time to process the news for herself. Fran didn't like it, but she also couldn't deny her sister.

...  


Rachel had kept on staring at the door leading to the intensive care unit for thirty minutes, readying herself to get to her feet every time the door opened. By the time the woman who looked so much like Quinn actually appeared in the doorframe Rachel needed a moment to realize it was actually the person she had been hoping for.

Again seemingly a thousand questions at once where thrown in Fran's direction as soon as the teenagers had spotted her.

"Is she awake?"

"How bad are her injuries?"

"Can we go in now?"

"Will she be okay?"

"When can we see her?"

Fran raised her hands in order to calm the upset group of highschoolers. "She's awake and as good as can be expected considering the circumstances."

Again a breath of relief went through the group. Rachel actually had to steady herself on the wall for a second. The knowledge that Quinn was alive and would apparently be okay felt like a really, really heavy burden was taken from her. "Can we go see her now?" Hearing that Quinn was okay, was one thing, but Rachel felt that she had to actually see and talk to her to believe it. Most of all she wanted to apologize for what happened.

Rachel frowned when Quinn's sister didn't immediately agree and lead them inside. She became downright irritated when she noticed the hesitant expression on the older woman's face.

"Maybe you guys should come back some other time," Fran suggested, obviously choosing her words carefully. "Quinn is still pretty weak and needs to rest."

Rachel could feel the color draining from her face. "Is it that bad? Is she hurt so bad that she can't have visitors?"

Fran immediately shook her head. "No. That's not it, I promise."

"I don't want to be disrespectful or anything, but we've been waiting here all night." Rachel crossed her arms defensively, before changing her strategy, figuring that Fran was probably just worried about Quinn's well-being. "I promise we won't over strain her or anything. We just want to see her for a moment."

"I know," the blonde sighed, running a hand through her long hair. "And I really appreciate you all being so supportive of Quinn-"

"Then let us fucking in!" Santana interrupted her harshly only to be met with the denying eyes of Quinn's sister. If Santana was intimidated it was only for a split second, before she straightened her shoulders. "This is ridiculous! I'm going in there and you won't stop me!"

"She doesn't want to see you," Fran declared unyielding, stepping into the cheerleader's way, before she looked around between the rest of Quinn's friends. "Any of you. I'm sorry."

Fran sighed and her eyes softened. "Give her some time guys, okay? She needs time to digest everything that happened."

Her emotions were all over the place as Rachel watched the tall blonde disappearing behind the door leading to the intensive care unit.


	2. Chapter 2

Dragging herself to school on Monday after the terrible events of the weekend was agonizing. Rachel hadn't even bothered with much more than showering and putting on the first set of clothes that were in reach. She didn't care that the colors didn't match or that the patterns jarred. Only the thought of what Quinn would have to say seeing her in a completely mismatching attire crossed her mind at one point. It made her eyes well up with tears. She was messed up to the point where she even missed Quinn's mean side. She missed any kind of interaction with the blonde and kept on wondering again and again what was possibly so terrible that Quinn didn't want to see anybody.

As more and more of her friends passed by her, Rachel was shocked to realize that she was seemingly the only one walking the hallways like a ghost. While none of them seemed to be extraordinary cheerful or in a good mood, they all seemed just _fine._ Everything seemed nearly normal, like Quinn's accident didn't have an impact on anyone. Everyone seemed to be doing what they were always doing.

In a way that made her wonder if she should be jealous of them or disgusted by their behavior.

Upon seeing Finn softly smiling at her from where he stood by her locker, Rachel almost wanted to make a turn and hide somewhere. She loved Finn more than anything, yet at the moment she blamed him almost as much as she blamed herself for what had happened.

It was supposed to be comforting and familiar, but as he embraced her all that she felt was anger at him. Because he seemed _fine_ too.

"You look tired," he pointed out carefully once he had released her from his arms.

"I haven't been able to sleep very well the last few nights," she replied with a sigh. _Or at all._ Normally Finn catching up on her mood without her having to shove it in his face would've been a reason for excitement, but now she rested her back against the row of lockers, the deep feeling of exhaustion and devastation never leaving her.

"Is there anything I can do?" Finn wanted to know. "If you want I can take you home and we can watch a musical or maybe-"

"Do you think Quinn will ever forgive me for what happened?" Rachel spoke the thought out loud without realizing that she had interrupted Finn or that he had talked in the first place.

Finn sighed and looked at her like she was a pitiful crazy person. "You have to let this thing go, Rachel. What happened isn't anyone's fault."

It was the same reply she'd received from pretty much everybody, but upon hearing it from him Rachel pushed herself off the wall, feeling the urge to get as far away as possible. Different than everyone else, Finn didn't have the right to say that there was nobody to blame, because it was their fault. His and hers.

"She was on her way to our wedding," fresh tears collected in Rachel's eyes as she recounted everything that happened. "A wedding she never approved off. A wedding she told me several times was a mistake. The only way it could be more our fault is if either you or I happened to sit behind of the wheel of the truck she collided with!" More frustration and anger rose within her when Finn just looked at her dumbfounded. "Don't you get it? If we had just chosen a different date or hadn't been in such a hurry to get married in the first place-"

Finn didn't get a chance to try and calm her down as she just turned on her heel and rushed off in the other direction immediately.

Rachel became aware of her surroundings again when she found herself sobbing pitifully in a bathroom stall. She was an emotional mess. In her soul blind rage, deep sorrow, worry and pure guilt were fighting for dominance.

It took her until the bell for the start of second period rang to compose herself and get her breathing back to normal.

...  


If someone would have asked Quinn in the past what the disease pattern of paraplegia entailed, she would have told them that it meant the inability to feel or move your legs. Most people probably would. And even though she was in glee club with Artie and saw him almost on a daily basis, she had never bothered to ask him about it. Frankly because she wasn't all that interested.

Now however she had become a real expert in what other symptoms paraplegia entailed.

Not only was she unable to move her legs, but the level of injury on her spine also hindered her from sitting up or moving her body to the side without any help. Not that she was allowed to sit anyway. In this stage of healing she was only allowed to lie flat down. Regularly the nursing staff would come to bed her in a different position, to prevent bed sores as they said.

Quinn really hated how one moment of inattention had made her completely dependent on other people. As of right now she couldn't even eat on her own. Even though that for once didn't have so much to do with the injury on her spine, but with the fact that she had to eat lying down and couldn't use her left arm which was still healing and had been put in a sling. There were two different IV's and a blood pressure cuff on her right arm that hindered her from using it properly. The temptation to decline the disgusting hospital food every time the nurse entered her room with a tray was huge, but that would only get her lecture from her doctors how her body needed all the nutrients it could get at the moment for healing.

Drinking was the one thing she could do without any help. She had to use a feeding cup, it was a small accomplishment sure but at the moment that was all she could ask for. She needed small victories like that.

It helped her at least a little bit through the times when she had to face the full embarrassment of having no control of her bowel or bladder whatsoever. The incontinence of urine she could take to some level. It was more or less discretely taken care of by a catheter. For _the rest_ they had put a diaper on her. Quinn felt it was beyond humiliating. In addition to that she couldn't even tell when it was necessary for the next cleaning up. The nurse came to her regularly to check, but they had also given her a lot of laxatives to forestall a intestinal paralysis, so more than once it was the stench that made her aware of it.

All of those things should have made her cry, but she hadn't shed a single tear since she lay in this hospital bed. She was too angry to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to ask someone why this had to happened to her. Why now? When she had finally managed to turn her life around. She would have maybe found it easier to accept it, during all the times she had acted like an unreasonable bitch. During all the times she had hurt people. She could have seen it as a judgment from above. But now it just felt entirely pointless. She used to think there was a meaning behind everything. That everything in life, even the bad things, happened for a reason. That God had a bigger plan.

Well, if he did, she certainly failed to understand it.

...

"Maybe we can think about a song we could perform for Quinn." Finn made the suggestion after the thirty most depressing minutes of glee club ever had passed in almost complete silence. It went without saying that none of them were really in the mood to sing and dance.

Finn hadn't expected thundering applause at his suggestion, since everybody was still in a prettty down mood, but he certainly didn't expect the several bewildered looks. The most irritated one's by far from his fianceé and Santana.

"Did I miss the news that you were in an accident too and sufferend brain trauma?" Santana sneered at him. "She doesn't want to see us dumbwit!"

"It's Quinn," he argued back, not willing to go down without a fight. He wouldn't let them make him out as an insensible klutz. He was worried about Quinn too. He had dated her twice after all. They had been through a lot. She was his friend. "She's never that good with showing a weak emotional side, but I'm sure she'll come around. And I just thought it would be nice to have something prepared when the time comes."

"I think you might actually have a point there, Finn." In to his students dreaded familiar movement their teacher walked over to the white board, uncapping a marker on the way. "I know you guys are all still very upset about what happened. See this as an opportunity to express what you want to tell Quinn. It might help you cope. Even if you don't get to sing it to her right away." The teacher looked around the choir room only to be met with silence, before he turned to the boy making the suggestion in the first place. "Do you have a specific song in mind Finn?"

"I thought we could do _I'll be there for you_ the theme song from _Friends_ ," Finn offered.

"Are you serious?"

"Are you an idiot?"

Rachel and Santana had snarled at the boy simultaneously. They only paused for a second to look at each other in surprise. It didn't happen often that they agreed on something and Santana would have made every bet that Rachel would support her idiot-fiancé excitedly in his plans, but to the cheerleader's surprise Rachel was proceeding to jump down Finn's throat before Santana had a chance.

"I can't believe you! Why would you suggest that song? It is just about as inappropriate as it gets," Rachel told Finn. "Do you even know the lyrics to that song, Finn?"

Finn hesitated a moment before speaking, realizing that there was no safe way out of this for him. Every further word would get him in trouble, still he stood behind his suggestion and did his best to try and explain it. "It's a song about friendship and about being there for each other. You know; 'I'll be there for you, when the rain starts to pour, I'll be there for you, like I've been there before, I'll be there for you, cause you there for me too..."

As he recited the lyrics Rachel's expression had changed to something between absolutely furious and about to have a hysterical nervous breakdown.

"It's a song aboutYuppieswith trivial ordinary problems like a bad job and burned toast. Not something like getting t-boned by a freaking truck," Santana told Finn in a condescending way, making no secret out the fact that she loved treating him like the idiot he was in her eyes.

"Good luck finding a song with lyrics like that," Finn muttered, causing Rachel's head to snap in his direction giving him yet another angry look. He sighed. "Look I just thought that it would be a nice metaphor. I didn't think you guys would take the lyrics literally. We often sing songs that don't exaclty fit the situation? So what, she will get what we mean."

Mr Schuester used his chance to cut in before the discussion would escalate. "Okay it's clear that most of you guys don't want to use _I'll be there for you._ Any other ideas?" He looked at his students hopefully, but was only met with silence. "Anyone? How about you Rachel?" Mr. Schue adressed the small brunette. "You're obviously still very upset about what happened to Quinn. Any songs you have in mind to express what you feel at the moment?"

She only looked at him warily through bloodshot eyes. "Honestly Mr. Shue I don't see the point. While I normally never pass up the chance to perform, this just..." She didn't even bother her sentence properly, but only sighed. "May I be excused? I have a headache."

Without waiting for permission from her teacher Rachel gathered her stuff and headed out the door.

...  


Quinn lay there completely impassive as the physical therapist moved the joints of her legs in all kind of different positions. It was weird to see her legs being set into motion without feeling any of it. Her brain also had a hard time catching up with seeing a hand touching her leg but not having any nerve response. A part of her still hoped every time her toes came into her field of vision that she maybe would be able to pull them forward or at least manage a small wiggle, but there was nothing. Her brain gave the command, but her body failed to comply.

One good point was that she didn't feel any pain at the hip joint they had completely replaced. Priorities Fabray, she told herself.

"You have strong musculature," Julia – her PT – remarked as she moved to her ankle, starting to budge it into all kinds of different stances.

"I dance a lot," Quinn replied, unable to not react to an offer to make small talk. It was simply the way she had been brought up. A moment later she corrected herself somberly. "I used to dance."

"Are you in a dance group?" Julia wanted to know.

The way she sounded so genuinely interested made Quinn wonder if this woman had training in bedside manner at all. Who asked a paraplegia patient something like that? Not bothering to hide that she was bothered by the woman's question she replied in a very taciturn way. "Glee club."

"So you're still in high school?"

Quinn nodded. "Senior year."

"I'm going to strike out the blood from your legs now. Your veins aren't able to contract yet and this is so you won't suffer from circularly problems or develop blood clots." Her therapist started what seemed to be a massage on her calves. From what it looked like. It wasn't like she could feel it. "Have you applied to college yet?"

"I got into Yale." The answer was automatic for Quinn by now. Only that she felt it lacked the usual enthusiasm behind it. She didn't even know if she would be able to attend at this point, so why bother. She closed her eyes and tried to recite her favorite poem backwards to stop her thoughts from going there.

"That's quite impressive," Julia said. "Have you thought about a major yet?"

"I really don't feel like talking about it, if you don't mind." Quinn kept her eyes closed stolidly.

When she felt the weight of the blanket on her abdomen, Quinn was relieved that the therapy session seemed to be over. She was disappointed when the brunette moved to open the sling securing her left arm to her chest. "You realize that paraplegia, as hard as it may be, won't stop you from attending, right?"

Opening her eyes gave the woman the coldest gaze she could muster. "I thought you were a physical therapist. Or are you moonlighting to be a shrink?"

Julia, ignoring her patients previous words, simply moved on with the exercise. "I'm going to move your arm now, Quinn. Dr. Miller gave you a pain adapted mobility, so I need you tell me at what point it start's hurting."

With a nod, she went back to close her eyes and tried her best to bid goodbye to all the dreams she had harbored for her time at Yale.

...  


"What?" Santana barked into the phone she had just fished out from underneath her nightstand. Even though she still tried to shake off the irritation of her dream – where the old guy sitting across from her on the ferry to Staten Island had started to sing _Metallica_ as her ringtone had become part of her dream – she was awake enough to know she was angry to be woken up in the middle of the night.

"Santana, it's me."

"It's 2:35 in the morning," she growled. "I'm going to need a name."

The girl on the other end cleared her throat, "It's Rachel."

The name should have been enough for Santana to hang up, but despite the fact that she should've known better, Santana snapped "What do you want?" into the receiver.

"I need your help," Rachel replied with a chocked sob. "I honestly think I'm losing my mind."

Santana rolled onto her back, closing her eyes again, figuring that this would be the easiest way to fall asleep if the midget should bore her too much. It wasn't an entirely nice reaction if you had someone crying on the other end, but then again Santana praised herself for not being a nice person.

Of course she didn't have to ask a question for Rachel to go on. "It's about Quinn. I can't stop thinking about her. I feel like since it's my fault what happened I should be the one to help her. Her denial to agree and see us is obviously a defense mechanism of what happened. And I don't think-"

"What does all of this have to do with me?" Santana cut in. She wasn't going to stay awake at three in the morning to be Rachel Berry's nightly helpline.

Rachel's explanation was blunt. "I want to try and sneak into Quinn's hospital room and since you are her best friend I thought you might be interested in coming with me."

Santana had to stop herself from telling Rachel to mind her own business and hang up. No question was she worried about Quinn. Hell, they all were. She also very much would have liked to know what was going on with her best friend. What was possibly so horrible that she didn't want to see her best friends.

Her answer came natrually. "I'm in. What's the plan?"

...  


Fran knew that Quinn didn't want her or their mother there. It wasn't like she was all that subtle about it with her monosyllable answers and nasty looks coming from her. Still Fran felt that she couldn't do her sister that favor, no matter how much she wanted to run away from the awkward tension in the room herself at times. She knew that Quinn had closed up and their was only a small room where she still allowed her family in; Fran feared that if they left now that Quinn would shut them out indefinitely too.

So they pretty much stayed by her bed side at all time possible. Ever since they had returned from their coffee break in the cafeteria to feed Quinn with lunch at noon, neither of them had left the room for more than a trip to the bathroom. Also for Judy to take a trip to refill the Starbucks cup, that was tightly clutched in her hand all day long with Chardonnay.

Although Fran doubted though that soft stuff like that still gave her mother the necessary edge. As long as she could remember there was a glass in her mother's hand. It was there when she got home from school in the afternoon and wouldn't disappear until bed time. Brief research from years ago had left her with the knowledge that her mother was a so called delta alcoholic. She had to keep her level to get through day, but it usually didn't interfere much with her daily life.

It was safe to say that Judy had developed a pretty good tolerance for alcohol and therefore also barely showed any sings of being drunk. What Fran worried now were the slight slurs in her mom's voice and how glassy her eyes looked.

Judy was beyond the point of just holding her level up. Fran was pretty sure that she simply drank to bear the tragedy of sitting by her paralyzed daughter's bedside.

With everything she had on her mind already, Quinn really shouldn't be faced with the thought of being the reason for pushing her mom over the edge of her alcoholism in addition.

It was during one of Judy's "refill breaks" that Quinn turned to her sister harshly. "Get her out of here."

"We're not-"

Quinn rolled her eyes in an annoyed manner and interrupted her sister. "I know I'm not getting rid of you, but get mom out of here!"

Fran hesitated. Leave her sister alone or leave her mother here. She hated both perspectives. If she left Quinn alone she would only sink more in her self-pity and self hatred, but at the same time if she didn't get her mother out of here soon that wouldn't do anything for her sister's well-being either.

"I'll be back in less than an hour," the older sister said strictly.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "It's not like I'm going to run off."

Fran sighed as she watched her sister close her eyes again, effectively tuning her out. She really wished that she could get her mother back in a more clear state of mind. She could use her mother's support. Also, the world could only handle one emotionally broken Fabray at a time.

...  


A few seconds of silent passed and Santana was the first one to speak. "We're really going to do this?"

"We came all this way," Rachel answered quietly without really replying to the question.

"I'm just making sure."

They both remained motionless hidden in the hallway parallel to the one that would lead them to the ICU where Quinn lay, both knowing that it was silly to hesitate now, after they had come this far.

Rachel had been full of energy when she had called Santana the night before. After she had spent hours lying on her bed staring at the ceiling, she had realized that crying, sulking and being depressed all day long wouldn't do anything to redeem her with Quinn. She would have to show Quinn that she deserved her forgiveness. It had all seemed so clear and logical in her head a few hours ago. Now the lines were starting to blur and the diva wondered if she wasn't making a mistake.

They had skipped school after second period this morning – a first for Rachel, who had always boasted to everyone about her flawless attendance record – and driven right towards Toledo. In a rest stop on the way they had slipped into the scrubs the cheerleader had borrowed/stolen (depending on each of the girls point of view) from her father's office. Barely one and a half hours after they had left the William McKinley Highschool parking lot they were in Toledo in front of the intensive care unit where their friend was being treated.

Rachel leaned her head back against the wall and finally dared to ask the question that had been in her mind all day long. "Why do you think she didn't want to see us?"

There was no answer from Santana at first, but then she shrugged her shoulders. "She better be horribly disfigured or something. Anything else I won't let count as an excuse."

"Santana!" Rachel gasped. She knew it was a defense mechanism the cheerleader was using, still hearing the words spoken out loud made her shiver.

It was Santana who went into motion first and stepped out from their hide out. "Listen, I'm sure she's fine and just as stubborn as ever, but I just spent the larger part of my day with _you_ of all people for Quinn's sake _._ If she doesn't want me here, fine. But she owes me to tell me that to my face."

Entering the ICU was a breeze. They were wearing scrubs amongst a sea of people in scrubs and no one was giving them as much as a second glance. Rachel's theory turned out to be true. The fact that they were in a big hospital came in favor for them. There was probably new staff on a daily basis here, so the two girls didn't stand out as long as they wore their scrubs. Rachel was pretty sure if she would have went into the staff room and poured herself a cup of coffee nobody would have taken notice that she didn't really belong there.

That was also why getting by the nurses without being called out they had sailed around downright perfectly. They had breezed by the nurses room casually, acting as if they had worked here for years, greeting them with a friendly smile.

The final stage of actually stepping in Quinn's door turned out specifically harder for both of them. The same uncertainty that had stopped them from getting out of the car before overcame them again. Rachel found herself afraid. What if Quinn was really seriously hurt? Under all odds it was very unlikely that Quinn's news would be that she was perfectly fine. She had been able to throw a casual look into other rooms. Most patients seemed unconscious to a large part, attached to a variety of machines and severely hurt. There was absolutely nothing preparing them for what condition their friend would be in.

Surprisingly it was Santana to articulate that fear. "I can't go in there."

Rachel didn't know what to reply. She had taken Santana for the stronger person of the two of them. All the talk about how she wanted Santana to come with her because she was Quinn's best friend was nonsense. She had taken Santana because she needed someone to kick her butt in case she chickened out. After all it was Rachel Berry that broke into dramatic fits of tears and wore her emotions on her sleeve. It was Santana Lopez who was supposed to carry her through this part, not the other way around.

With the sudden clarity that it was up to her and only her, Rachel decided that she just had to know what was going on. She had to make it up to Quinn. For good or bad. Instinctively she found her hand reaching out to squeeze Santana's firmly. With courage she didn't know she had, her other hand reached out to push the door in front of them open.

...  


Quinn groaned on the inside when she heard the door open. Just when she thought she had gotten rid of her mother and sister and had been able to fully concentrate on her own misery. The nurses had bedded her on her right side previously, so she faced the window. She didn't bother the trouble of twisting her head around, but kept on looking forward.

"I'm tired Fran..."

The few seconds of silence didn't really astonish her. It wasn't like her sister really cared about what she wanted.

"Hello Quinn."

Panic immediately flowed through every cell of her body when she heard a clearing of a throat and the subdued words. She squeezed her eyes shut and hoped for this to be a dream. A nightmare. Because Rachel couldn't really be here. No one was supposed to see her like this. This couldn't be happening.

When she opened her eyes again, there were two figures stepping in her field of vision cautiously.

Santana gave her an untypical shy wave. "Hey Q."

Quinn had never cursed her new acquired inability to turn around on her own so much. She felt that she was helplessly at the mercy of her friends pitiful and worried looks, when all she wanted to do was face into the other direction and tell them to leave.

"You guys shouldn't have come here," was the first thing she said avoiding to look at both of them directly. "I told Fran that I didn't want to see anyone."

It was Rachel who took the first step closer to her bedside dropping onto the chair where her mother had previously been sitting, reaching out for Quinn's hand. The blonde pulled her arm away in a rash motion causing Rachel to look like a kicked puppy as she pulled back and clasped her fingers tightly in her lap.

Santana only slowly came closer, standing right behind the diva. The former shy and almost vulnerable expression had vanished from her face. Instead Quinn could see that she had her jaw clenched.

"You're not defaced," Santana remarked tightly.

Quinn raised an eyebrow and huffed. "You sound disappointed."

"That was the only explanation I could come up with why you wouldn't want to see any of your friends."

Quinn returned the hard glare her friend was giving her without a blinking once. "So what you got from me not wanting to see anyone was that I wanted you guys to put on scrubs and sneak into my hospital room?"

Santana huffed with a shake of her head. "You are unbelievable."

A response on the tip of her tongue, Quinn was silenced by Rachel carefully intervening.

"Please, Quinn." Her voice was almost begging. "We were worried sick and right now we are simply really happy to see you awake and apparently not as badly harmed as we had feared. Please don't push us away."

Quinn realized it then. They had no idea. The fact that she would be paralyzed from now had been so prominent in her mind, that she just assumed that everyone would know by a simply looking at her. When it really wasn't written on her forehead. For now all they could see were the bruises on her face and the sling her arm was in. Maybe they had also noticed the wound drainage leading from her hip joint, but that had to be it.

The decision to do everything within her power to keep her real condition from her friends came natural to Quinn. Forcing a smile onto her face she translated her intentions into action and did her best to downplay the extent of her injuries. "I didn't want everyone to make a big fuss over a few broken bones."

With relief she saw a genuine smile appear on Rachel's face, showing her that she had bought the offered explanation. "That is incredibly silly Quinn. First of all we are your friends, we want to know if something happened to you, and secondly there is a fuss ado when those broken bones lead you to need intensive care."

Santana walked to the foot of the bed clutching her fingers around the plastic and taking Quinn in with a strict look. Of course she wouldn't be as easily forgiving. "We were really worried," she repeated.

Quinn bit her lip, feeling momentarily bad. Santana seemed really worried about her and Quinn knew how hard it had to be on her to let her know that. To show that she wasn't always as invulnerable as she proclaimed took a lot out of her friend. On the contrary, all of that changed nothing about the fact that she didn't want either of them here. Quinn hadn't asked Rachel or Santana to worry or to show up here and she couldn't forget about her intention to get them out of here as quickly as possible.

"I was on a lot of morphine to help me over the worst pain and pretty much out of it," she offered as explanation.

"Are you in pain now? Should I call the nurse to get you some more morphine?" Rachel crooked her head worriedly and Quinn could see the diva's finger twitch in an attempt to reach out, but the previous rejection made her think better of it.

"It's bearable. There are still a lot of drugs running in my system so please don't take it personally if I drift off suddenly." Quinn prayed that her friends would take the hint. She was tired and in pain, that equaled that she wasn't up for company at all.

"What exactly did you break?" Santana asked while causally taking a seat at the edge of the bed, telling Quinn nonverbaly that she didn't give a fuck if she was tired or in pain. By all means Santana was making herself comfortable and didn't seem like she had the intention to leave any time soon.

"My upper arm, collar bone and a few ribs," Quinn answered resigned to her fate. "I also got myself a new hip joint while I was at it."

On that note she reminded herself to ask again why they had bothered with replacing her hip if she wasn't going to feel or use it anyway. Seemed like a waste of medical equipment.

Rachel clutched a hand over her mouth. "Oh my god," she mumbled against her palm. "That's major surgery. Are you sure your not in pain? Is there anything I can get you?"

If the situation hadn't been as serious as it was she would have laughed. The broken bones and the hip prosthesis really were the least of her problems.

"I'm okay," she told her friends. "Comfortable considering the circumstances."

"Well, that's saves me asking you how you feel." A nurse entered the room with a bright smile and Quinn groaned internally. She had named the woman chatty Cathy in her mind. She wasn't even sure what the woman's real name was, but she never shut up. "I heard PT wasn't all that easy on you today, Quinn. But, it does get better you will see. If everything will go according to plan we should be able to move you into a wheelchair for the first time at the beginning of next week already. Isn't that exciting? You must be dying to see something else than just those white walls and the ceiling. I know I would go crazy. I was lying down with the flu last month for a day and couldn't stay in bed longer than twenty-four hours. My husband told me I was crazy because I was nearly passing out – I felt that dizzy – but I told him that if I had to stay in bed for one more hour I would go through the roof."

That monologue left the nurse's lips while she busied around the room, checking Quinn's vitals, the various iv's that she was attached to and also the amount of urine in the catheter. Being here for only a few days were enough for Quinn to realized that all of the hospital staff were interested in her excretions on an obsessed level. When they weren't worried about whether there was too less urine in the catheter bag, they would force laxatives down her throat.

"Everything seems as it should be," Cathy concluded seeming satisfied. "Now we'll only have to move you to the other side. Can't risk you getting any bed sores can we? I know you think that it's very unlikely because you're so young, but let me tell you, just because you're young doesn't mean we can get frivolous."

Quinn could feel her friends wondering eyes on her. After all being moved wasn't exactly something that was a regular treatment if you had just a few broken bones. Added to that the nurse had some serious word vomit going on and it was only a matter of time until a detail about the paraplegia would slip out. Quinn was just considering who was easier to get out of the room her friends or the nurse when Cathy turned to Rachel. "You're the new med students, right?"

Both Rachel and Santana looked at each other uncertainly, wondering whether they should blow their cover, before Rachel answered. "We're her friends and currently absolving a practicum in the children's ward. We just stopped by for a visit after work."

"Well, you might as well help me out here then," Cathy concluded. Quinn was breaking out in cold sweat now. This couldn't be happening. They couldn't see her like that. So completely dependent. The mere thought of it made her wish that she had died on the side of that deserted road.

"Can't you do it alone?" she asked the nurse in a lowered voice, hoping she would take the hint how utterly uncomfortable she was with the idea of any of the girls being present for this.

"Sure I could do it alone, but I have to think of my own health too, missy. You may barely weigh hundred pounds but that doesn't mean you're easy to move around. You know, it's really astonishing how heavy a small person like you can get when they can't move the lower half of their body."

Quinn sighed in defeat. There it was. The words that had given her condition away. Cathy proceeded in her work as if nothing had happened and shooed an instantly complying Santana off the bed. Rachel who seemed completely taken aback was waved closer to the bed and the nurses babbling continued mercilessly. "That's something you want to always keep in mind, dear. As much as any patients health matters, your own does too. Took me three slipped discs to realize that. Now come on, I need you to pull Quinn in your direction so I can remove the pillow from her back."

"Maybe you should ask one of your colleagues to help?" Rachel raised her hands in a helpless manner. "I've never-"

Cathy interrupted her with a huff. "You gotta be kidding me. What do they teach you down in the in the peds ward? Well, I will have to walk you through it. It's not that hard, I promise. Put one hand on her shoulder blade and the other one on her hip."

Quinn could see Rachel give her a distressed look as she closed the remaining distance, just in time before Quinn closed her eyes. She wouldn't wait for the inevitable pity to appear on the diva's face. Soft fingers hesitantly reached out and lay on the places the nurse had instructed barely touching her. Cathy chuckled softly and put Rachel's hands down in place more firmly. "Now come on, Quinn here isn't made out of glass."

Quinn could feel Rachel's thumb drawing patterns on her shoulder blade in what was probably supposed to be a soothing and reassuring gesture, but it only caused her to squeeze her eyes closed more firmly. Fucking compassion.

At least Cathy was working fast. Quinn had to give her that. The pillow supporting her back was removed quickly and she was released onto her back before Cathy pulled her onto her left side – not as steep as before because of the damage to that side of her body – and the pillow was placed firmly against her back by Rachel.

"Now, see. All done," Cathy said happily, directing her next words towards Rachel. "You did a good job dear. Told you it's not hard. You're okay with the position you're in, Quinn?"

Quinn nodded and slowly reopened her eyes. She felt a little bit safer now that her back was turned to Rachel and Santana.

"Good." Cathy patted Quinn's hand. "I'll see you in two hours for my regular round, if you need anything in the mean time, you know what button to press. Ha, who am I kidding, every patient knows that." She put a hand to her hip, looking at Santana. "It's weird isn't it? A person can be completely senile, but they will always find the call-button. Okay, I'll see you later."

The talkative nurse left and heavy silence dominated the room. It was of course Rachel to circle the bed and speak up first.

"What's going on Quinn?" she asked looking at her with big, almost tearful eyes as she sat down on the edge of the bed. "What was that? Why do you need to be moved? Why..." She didn't finish the sentences, Rachel just ran a hand through her hair and kept on staring at Quinn.

Immense anger raised within Quinn. Anger because Rachel and Santana had just witnessed how entirely helpless she was. Anger because they showed up here in the first place. Anger at herself because she agreed to go to the freaking wedding in the first place. Anger because it was obvious that they knew exactly what was going on, but that they needed Quinn to say it.

Her eyes flashing she fixated on Rachel. "What's going on?" Quinn exploded and with a sick satisfaction she could see the diva flinching at her obvious rage. It felt incredibly freeing to finally let all the anger she had been bottling up for days. "You want to know what's going on, Rachel? I was in an accident on my way to _your_ wedding and now I'm paralyzed."

She looked at a completely taken aback Rachel cruelly as the girl slipped from her place at her bedside and brought a few feet distance between them. Quinn was nowhere near being finished with her. "I was answering a text from _you_ telling me to _hurry_ when that truck hit me and crushed two bones in my spine effectively destroying my spinal cord."

To Quinn's surprise it was Santana who left the room in a rush, Rachel just remained in her place and tears started to roll down her face as she shook her head rapidly, clutching her neck to keep sobs from leaving her throat. "I'm sorry, Quinn. I'm so sorry."

Quinn laughed, sure that she probably sounded completely crazy at the moment, but she was beyond caring. Rachel was the one to blame she had been looking for. It was irrational to blame her, deep down Quinn knew that, but it was hard not to when she wouldn't have been in an accident had she not been on the way to Rachel's and Finn's wedding. A wedding she thought had been a bad idea from the very start. A wedding she had only agreed to attend to because she knew it would make Rachel happy. Getting hit by the damn truck when she was about to answer a text from Rachel. So yes seen from a restricted point of view it was all Rachel's fault and Rachel would just have to endure every single syllable Quinn threw her way.

"You're going to cry?" Quinn taunted the smaller girl viciously. "Are you serious? What right do you have to cry? I'm the one who's paralyzed!"

It took Rachel several moments and a very deep breath, that was probably a breath control technique from her voice lessons, but in the end she actually managed to stop the flow of tears. Yet the mantra coming from her lips was the same, even it was just a whisper now. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Quinn."

"Just leave," Quinn's voice had returned to a calmer more collected level but was still as hateful as before. When Rachel didn't comply to her wishes immediately and just kept in the same spot looking at her, the anger resurfaced. "Get the fuck out!" She spat the words in the other girls face. Quinn was sure couldn't take the guilt ridden expression Rachel wore a second longer.

Flinching at the harsh words, Rachel complied without one more word of protest and hurried out the door.

...  


Santana dragged on the cigarette like there was no tomorrow. It was her second one since she had pulled the pack out of her glove box no more than five minutes ago. She was sitting on the cold asphalt, her back leaned against her car. She didn't even know why she had felt the need to smoke. She wasn't a smoker, aside from the occasional one when she had been drinking. She also couldn't confirm the believe that it was calming at all. If anything her hands only shook harder with the nicotine running through her system. All the cigarette really did for her was keep her temporarily busy so she wouldn't give into the urge to drive her fist into a wall.

Everything from the point of entering Quinn's room felt like a blur. The uncertainty of how to approach her, as anger masked relief when she had been under the impression that her best friend had gotten out of the accident relatively unharmed, the shame in Quinn's eyes when she had been moved by the nurse and in the end the incredible rage and powerlessness when the words "I'm paralyzed" had left her lips.

Santana felt like a coward for running out like she had. As Quinn's best friend it should have been her job to stay at her side and tell her that wouldn't change anything about the way she saw her, that she would be there for her every – no pun intended – step of the way. But all she had been able to think about were her harsh words towards Quinn. Jesus, it was a miracle Quinn hadn't thrown her out right then and there. Of course she didn't want to see anybody. Knowing her best friend she had to be terrified and completely overwhelmed with her new situation. She cursed herself and Rachel for going out of their way see Quinn in the first place. Santana could only imagine how embarrassed Quinn had to feel right now and the thought haunted her.

She didn't bother to look up when a pair of feet wearing white sneakers and too long scrub pants showed up next to her.

Once again this day she found herself giving Rachel credit. She had managed to stay a few minutes longer than Santana herself had been able to and there were no blames or angry words directed towards her.

Rachel sunk down next to Santana staring ahead. Her eyes were red from crying and in all she looked like she was about to suffocate.

Neither of them spoke a word and Santana lost count of how long they sat there, probably both catching an inflammation of the bladder from the cold ground. When she dared the first look at the diva's reaction after a while it became obvious to her that no matter how upset she was herself, she would be the one to drive home, because Rachel who had rested her forehead on her knees seemed to make use of every meditating technique she knew to keep from choking.

Getting to her feet Santana only nudged the smaller girl and indicated for her to get in the car with a nod of head. Rachel complied without a word, raised and wiped the dust off her pants and got into the passenger side.

The drive back to Lima was spent in complete silence, apart from the GPS giving Santana instructions from time to time. The radio had been turned off by Rachel as soon as the car had been turned on. Santana didn't protest. She welcomed it in fact.

Approximately two hours after she had left Quinn's hospital room in a hurry, Rachel was the first one to break the silence, just as Santana was about to make a left turn towards where Rachel lived.

"My car is still in the parking lot at school," Rachel remarked, her voice a little hoarse. Probably because she never had been quiet for that long before, Santana thought. It was only due to everything they had witnessed together today that she didn't speak the thought out loud.

"You can get it tomorrow," Santana answered, continuing her way towards the Berry home unimpeded. No way she would let her drive anywhere by herself tonight. As if Quinn lying in a freaking hospital bed wasn't enough.

"I suppose my daddy can drive me," Rachel spoke her thoughts out loud.

Not bothering to offer Rachel a ride for the next day, Santana brought her car to stop in front of Rachel's house. The diva stared ahead for about five seconds before her head snapped towards her team mate. "We have to find a way to be there for her. To help her."

Alarmed Santana shook her head instantly. "No we don't." Any attempts from Rachel to reach out would just embarrass Quinn further and make her even more angry. She wouldn't allow it. "No sappy songs about the value of friendship at her bedside, you hear me?"

A slight huff left the diva's lips. "Fine, if you're not willing to support me, I'm sure the rest of the glee club-"

Santana didn't let her finish the sentence but grabbed her upper arm tightly. "You won't tell anyone, understood?" Her voice was sharp as a knife. "Not your moron fiancé, not Kurt, not Mercedes. _Absolutely_ no one or I will make sure you receive a slushy shower every single day until you graduate college."

Santana felt it was her duty to protect Quinn's privacy. It was the least she could do, with the way she had let her friend down. This was Quinn's business and her business only. Santana knew too well what it was to have information spread you weren't ready to share with anyone yet. Sure you couldn't really compare being outed against your will to paraplegia, but she had no doubt that Quinn wouldn't appreciate having Finn sing depressing versions of Cindy Lauper songs at her bedside.

Rachel just looked at her with wide Bambi-eyes that would put Miss Pillsbury to shame and nodded. Seemingly Santana's harsh tone had robbed her of the illusion that they were BFF's after what they had gone through together today. Rachel gathered her backpack quickly and closed the door behind herself, rushing towards her front door. Santana looked after her and hoped dearly that her threat would be enough to keep the diva's mouth shut.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Since her dads were entranced by a live broadcast of a Cindy Lauper concert, Rachel was able to slip upstairs to her room relatively unnoticed. Their eyes remained glued to the screen while they greeted her, which saved her from having to explain why she wore medical scrubs and why her eyes looked liked she had been crying through the last week non-stop.

In the safety of her own room she slipped down against the closed door and stared straight ahead. All she really wanted to do was curl up in bed and cry herself to sleep, but Quinn's words from before reminded her that she had no right to cry since she wasn't the one who was laying in a hospital bed with a damaged spinal chord.

Santana's threat lingered on her mind as well. And Rachel knew better than to go behind the head cheerleader's back.

Still, she couldn't just sit around and do nothing when Quinn was clearly not okay. There had to be something she could do to help. The knowledge that it was her fault that Quinn would be in a wheelchair for the rest of her life made the urge to redeem herself to the blonde stronger than ever before. Hugging her knees to her body Rachel took a deep breath to collect herself. She couldn't change what had happened, but she wouldn't sit around doing nothing and just wallow in self pity and remorse.

Another deep breath later Rachel forced herself to stand up on still slightly shaky legs. Determined she walked to her desk where she sat down and turned her laptop on. If she wanted to find ways to help Quinn she would have to find out what she faced here.

The computer was turned on shortly after and she typed the word "Paraplegia" into the Google search bar.

...  


Quinn was boiling with rage through the rest of the afternoon. For Quinn the worst thing was having no real outlet for her emotions. Yelling at Rachel had helped, but in the end she was just as frustrated as ever with her new situation. Because Rachel _could_ simply turn around and walk out of the room. She couldn't leave that damn room whose walls she felt were moving in on her more every day. She couldn't even leave the bed. Having a tantrum just wasn't as effective and freeing when you had to do it lying flat on your back. All she had managed to do was throw her sipping cup against the wall and really it wasn't all that satisfying because the damn plastic thing didn't even break.

For a brief moment after the cup had recoiled from the wall unharmed she had considered letting the tears that had been threatening to spill ever since that first moment of consciousness where she realized couldn't move or feel her legs. She fought them back stubbornly, telling herself that crying wouldn't really help. In the end she would only be even angrier at herself for allowing herself that kind of weakness. And self-hatred was not what she needed on top of everything else right now.

"The nerve of them showing up here in the first place!" she told Fran later that afternoon, once she had recounted – on her sister's insistent request – everything that had happened in her absence.

Settled once more she wondered why Rachel and Santana had just to shown up here. When she had let it be known very clearly that she didn't want to see any of them. How much clearer could she express that? While she knew it was an inevitability for them to find out what was going on in the long run, she hadn't expected it to be so soon. And then in such an embarrassing manner as having to be moved. Quinn felt herself cringing in shame at the memory. The shocked look of realization on Santana's face and Rachel's brown eyes widening and shining with tears.

"Why are you so afraid of anyone finding out?" Fran's voice was soft and her hand was holding hers in a gentle but firm grip as she broke Quinn's train of thought.

The younger girl swallowed to keep from crying yet again. Thinking about how soon the whole school would learn that she was paralyzed was terrifying her. She didn't want pity. She didn't want random people that had never spoken two words with her before showing up at her bedside. It was bad enough that Rachel and Santana had seen her this dependet. It had been so humiliating.

She would have liked to explain all of that to her sister, but in the end she found she didn't have the emotional energy for more than a repressed "Nobody should have to see me like this."

Fran leaned back with a thoughtful expression her worried eyes never leaving her baby sister until she leaned closer again, her fingers rubbing over her arms as always when she was overwhelmed.

"We won't keep that 'not-letting-anybody-see-you' charade up any longer, Quinn. I won't help you do it. I shouldn't have in the first place. It isn't good for you," Fran announced in a decisive manner.

Quinn's eyes widened in horror. She had to be kidding. She wanted to do that now? After what had happened today. "No you can't," Quinn shook her head firmly. "Not without my consent."

"You have to start letting people in," Fran told her. "People are going to find out eventually. Do you think it's going to be easier after you've shut yourself off completely for weeks or even months? I know we were raised to handle everything by ourselves, but there are people who care about you."

Quinn stared at her sister with hard eyes. "I don't need anyone to care about me. I'm good at handling things by myself." She paused before playing her next card pointedly. "You get good at that if you're homeless, pregnant and dependent on yourself at sixteen." When she noticed her sister's expression changing and looking to her feet she knew that she had hit a nerve. It would forever be an unresolved topic between the sisters; the fact that Fran hadn't lifted a finger to do something about their parents throwing Quinn out.

As quickly as Fran had lost her composure she had pulled herself together and returned her sister's hard stare. "I'm not going to let you cut everyone out anymore," she declared firmly. "See it as reparation for not supporting you back then."

With those words Fran pulled a magazine out of her purse and leaned back in her chair, leaving a frustrated Quinn staring at the ceiling.

The urge to cry out all the frustration, anger and fear that today had awoken within her was nearly overwhelming. It had been four days since she had been in a major accident that left her paralyzed. Couldn't people cut her some fucking slack? Give her some time? Not only had she lost control over the lower half of her body and her privacy, but also the right to decide who she wanted to see or not. In a fit of stubborness Quinn decided that she wouldn't shed a single tear over what had happened. Crying was at least something she could still control.

...  


Santana was depressed. And because Santana didn't really know how to handle being depressed – nor did she want to – she was in the worst mood anybody had ever seen her in. As she strode down the halls of McKinley the look on her face was so dangerously angry, everybody cleared the way for her without her having to say a single word or even look at them.

As she threw her locker open with a loud bang, out of the corner of her eye she caught Rachel rushing through the halls. Santana knew she had to keep an eye out for her. She had made it her mission that none of what they had witnessed and learned in that hospital room yesterday would make it out of it. It was the only way Santana felt she could actively help her best friend. Rachel's illusions about helping Quinn with a huge amount of devotion and compassion just wasn't going to work. In Santana's eyes all they could do was stick to Quinn's wishes until she was ready to face everybody on her own terms. Forcing her wouldn't help, the opposite really. So yeah, Santana made sure that Rachel would stick to that.

It alarmed her when she saw Rachel approaching someone with eager steps and the cheerleader's eyes instantly narrowed when she saw that the person was Artie.

They were too far away for Santana to understand what they were saying, but she didn't even bother to watch more than a couple of seconds in which Rachel made overly dramatic gestures. Of course he was the first one Rachel – being super organized as ever – would run to. Who better to get tips and information from than the kid who had been in a similar situation to Quinn's.

With a goose-step she marched up to them gripping Rachel's upper arm rather tightly. The shorter girl immediately flinched at the harsh gesture and Santana's hard stare.

"Rachel? A word?" She didn't even wait for an answer but simply dragged Rachel down the hall.

"Santana, you're hurting me." The grip she had on the girls arm didn't linger for a split second.

She dragged the girl into a bathroom and only barked an "Out!" at the two girls giggling at the sinks, before they hurried out hastily.

She only released Rachel's arm when she was sure the two of them were alone in the bathroom. Her eyes still blazing angrily she approached Rachel.

"What did you say to him?" Each word was as sharp as a knife.

Rachel who obviously either wasn't afraid or prevented herself from showing any fear just raised her chin and looked at Santana stubbornly. "Nothing."

Santana huffed. Yeah right. She had seen Rachel walk up to Artie and address him. Honestly, she could've sworn that she'd never seen the pair even talk outside of glee club before. Rachel was talking to the only paralyzed boy in the school the day after she found out that Quinn was paralyzed, that wasn't a coincidence.

"I'm not in the mood for this," Santana's tone became even more threatening as she took a couple of steps towards Rachel starting to slowly corner the girl. "I'm not an idiot. Tell me what you said to him!"

"I asked if he knew any rap song's that would fit my voice and range well," Rachel lied without batting an eye.

Santana growled menacingly before closing the distance between herself and the girl and pushing her against the wall. "Bullshit," she all but snapped right into her face. Attacking Rachel physically wasn't really something she had had in mind, but with the diva making up that stupid lie she had simply lost her already thinning patience. All Rachel did was waste her time. Time she could be using to stop Artie from breathing any word about Quinn, should Rachel really have said something.

The cheerleader took a deep breath in order to calm herself. "I'm not asking again. What did you talk about with-" the insult "wheels" refused to pass her lips "him?"

It was clear that she had intimidated Rachel, still with some sort of recognition Santana had to admit that she held her ground pretty good for that.

Looking Santana straight in the eye she finally answered. "I have asked him where he bought the gloves. The one's he wears because of the wheelchair."

The hold she had on Rachel's arm slowly loosened. "That's all you said to him?"

Rachel nodded.

"Why did you say you wanted to know that?"

"I told him I wanted to get myself some for Nordic Walking."

Santana was still skeptical, but brought a few feet distance between herself and the singer. "You know I'm going out if there's more to it."

Rachel just nodded.

"If only one word of Quinn's conditon-"

"It won't," Rachel cut her off quickly.

"If only one word comes out, I'll make sure that everybody knows it is all your fault within the same hour!"

With those words Santana twisted around and slammed the bathroom door behind her. Around the corner she found a relatively deserted spot and let her body slump back against the wall.

She wasn't really angry at Rachel for the prospect of someone finding out. She was angry with herself because unlike herself, Rachel actually had the guts to go back to Toledo and face Quinn.

...  


Fran made a disgusted face and dropped the jello cup back onto the tray, before wiping her tongue with a napkin. "Wow, that is disgusting," she exclaimed to which Quinn only gave her an unimpressed look. "Makes me almost feel sorry for forcing that food down your throat the last couple of days." Still no answer from Quinn. "Well just almost. I mean you have to eat."

Not expecting a response Fran grabbed the remote. "How about some TV?"

Judy suppressed a thankful sigh. The mood in the room was depressing. Quinn wouldn't speak a word – for whatever reason, Frannie refused to tell her – and her older daughter would talk almost without interruption. It gave Judy a headache.

She took a sip of her coffee cup, which held actual coffee today and had to refuse the urge to crease her face into a grimace. Wondering if everything this hospital offered as food and beverage was absolutely disgusting, she made a mental note to stop by Starbucks tomorrow.

It was a small accomplishment, but so far she had only slipped to the bathroom four times to take a sip of vodka out of the flask in her purse. She wasn't particular proud of it either, but at the moment a cold turkey like Fran had demanded just wasn't something she was capable of. Having a bit of liquor running in her system was the only way she could wear a smile on her face and support her daughter instead of breaking into a fit of tears at her bed side.

Granted she had taken it a little far yesterday. Her eldest didn't neglect to let her know that. When she had come to the hotel room the previous night Fran had exploded in a way Judy had never seen before in her life. "Are you even ashamed of yourself?" she had yelled. "Your daughter was in an accident. She's paralyzed and instead of being there for her you get so drunk that you can't even get to your hotel on your own?"

Judy wasn't completely oblivious. Of course she knew that she had a problem with alcohol. The time when she denied that lay way behind her. However it wasn't something she could change from one day to the next and with the knowledge that her youngest daughter was permanently paralyzed she found it hard to leave her bed in the morning. She didn't have the energy to quit drinking right now and frankly she didn't want to. It made everything a little easier to bear.

It was out of question however that she wouldn't let herself get out of control like she had yesterday.

"Anything you would like to see Quinn?" Fran asked as she flipped through the channels without much motivation and Quinn just turned her head and stared outside the window stoically. Again Judy repressed a sigh. She wondered what was going to happen in a few days when Fran would have to go back to Chicago. Her job wouldn't allow her any more days off. Paralyzed sister or not.

Right now it was Fran who kept some kind of normality and conversation alive. Judy dreaded the thought of how Quinn would entirely close off from her without Fran constantly trying to get her to talk about how she felt. Judy wasn't really good at it, that much was obvious.

Stopping randomly at some channel they landed on an episode of "Hell's Kitchen". Fran was just ranting about how much she disliked Gordon Ramsay, when a determined knock on the door had them looking to the door in surprise. Judy noticed that even Quinn's head had turned towards the entry.

Fran called out a "Come in!" and the door opened. It took Judy a moment to place the teenager loitering in the frame, clutching a moving box tightly. But even once she recognized the girl, there wasn't much she knew about Rachel Berry besides her name. She was in Quinn's grade, had a wonderful singing voice and was raised by two homosexual father's that her ex-husband had always disapproved of immensely.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," Rachel said as she hesitantly stepped further into the room. She looked incredibly nervous.

Fran stood up, put an arm loosely around Rachel's shoulder's and lead the girl further into the room. "Not at all," she declared. "Quinn has just been saying that she has hoped one of you guys would stop by. Isn't that right, Quinn?"

Rachel threw a skeptical glance towards Quinn before looking back to Fran. It was evident that Quinn had never said anything of the sort; she eyed Rachel with a coldness that had Judy almost shivering.

Rachel wasn't oblivious to Quinn's rejection, but she just straightened out her shoulder's, raised her chin and managed a flattering smile. "I just wanted to drop off some things for you, Quinn."

Again there was no answer. Quinn kept staring at her hostile.

Not entirely unaffected by her friends obvious repulsion Rachel kept her shoulder's from slumping and walked over to the small table to put down the heavy looking box. She began to unpack it eagerly. "It's just some things that I figured you could find helpful," she explained while digging around in the box.

The first item she pulled out was something that looked like a very weird and extraordinary pair of designer sunglasses. "Those are prism glasses," Rachel explained to Quinn. "I did some research about" awkward pause "your situation and learned that you'll have to spend the first part of your recovery lying on your back, which according to my research leads to aberration, since the only thing you naturally have in your line of sight is the ceiling, so these glasses will help you see what's going on in the room even if you're flat on your back."

Not giving anyone a chance to answer, ask questions or interrupt, the brunette girl went on quickly as she pulled out a stack of books and magazines. "I don't think I have to explain much here. Everyone would be bored if they had to stay in bed all day long, so I picked these up to keep you entertained. I hope you will enjoy them. I based the selection on what I have seen you reading in the past."

Quinn's expression didn't change the slightest bit as Rachel put the reading material down on the nightstand and went back to her magic box, fishing a tray-like board out of it. "This is a reading aid specially designed for hospital beds." She unfolded it it with seemingly practiced hands and demonstrated it's use as she put it across Quinn's bed at the level of her chest. "I picked it up at the local medical store on my way here." Quinn never batted an eye, but Rachel went on without hesitation. "You just ask the nurse to clamp the book, magazine, newspaper or whatever you want to read into it and you can read it all by yourself."

"That is really thoughtful, Rachel," Fran said clearly astonished by everything Rachel had brought. "All of this is amazing."

The teenager beamed at the postive feedback as she hurried back to the box. "There's more!"

Next she pulled out an I-Pad and clipped it into the reading aid above the bed. "There are loads of e-books, music and movies on here," she told Quinn, who still didn't give her anything but hard looks. "I also left my Netflix account logged in, so you can just go crazy there if you want to. You'll also find a PDF Yale course catalog on there and a power point presentation that will show you how Yale is one of the most wheelchair accessible universities in the States." Rachel finished her talk by standing at the foot of Quinn's bed and smiling alternately between the three Fabray women.

Judy was deeply impressed, to say the least. The smile on Fran's face showed that she felt exactly the same. They didn't really know much about the girl, nor did she care, but it was obvious that with the effort she had put into researching everything, she cared about Quinn a great deal.

It dawned on her then that this was her resolution. Once Fran had to go back to Chicago she, Judy decided that she would need to find a way to keep Rachel around.

...  


It wasn't until she closed the door to her car, that Rachel finally felt all tension leaving her body. She hadn't even noticed how nervous she had been until she tried to put the key in to start the engine and realized that her hand was shaking almost uncontrollably.

She lowered her arm and leaned back against the seat, trying to calm herself down with breathing exercises. Preventing herself from showing how anxious she had been about seeing Quinn again had been necessary to be able to go through with it.

Her initial fear that Quinn's mother and sister would treat her the same way Quinn had the day before, thankfully hadn't come true. The opposite really. Both women had treated her with a very friendly and welcoming attitude. When she had decided that it was time to leave, they both encouraged her several times to come back and visit as soon as possible.

If only the same would've applied for Quinn. Her friend – if Rachel even still dared to be considered as one – had acted completely dismissive and cold. She hadn't said a single word for the entire time Rachel had been there and only eyed her with cool glances.

Despite that Rachel was relieved and she had every intention of coming back the next day. And the day after. And the day after that.

It wouldn't be easy, but she would make her amends to Quinn; do whatever was in her power to support her for whatever she may need.

...  


Quinn came to the conclusion that God was a sadistic bastard and just didn't want to give her a break. She had been raised to never talk blasphemous, but she too had her limits of what she could take.

Judy and Fran had just left no more than half an hour ago for an appointment with their health insurances, leaving Quinn to actually enjoy the peace and quiet for a while without having someone talk her ear off or trying to get her talk about her feelings.

Just when she closed her eyes and decided not to waste her free time dwelling on the anger she felt towards her family for not leaving her alone, in hope of a dreamless sleep, Quinn noticed the bad smell that crept its way into the room.

It took her two seconds to realize what it was and she immediately reached to her nightstand and hit the button to call the nurse.

Quinn had to gather all of her strength to not start crying. Was this supposed to be her life from now on? No control over her own body whatsoever? Just lying there in her own … mess, until somebody took pity on her and cleaned her up?

A couple of minutes later a young nurse – Katie? - Quinn had only seen a couple of times entered her room with a soft smile. Quinn always thought it looked kind of pitiful.

"How can I help you?"

If there was anything Quinn hated more than the actually process of needing to be changed it was asking for help. Everything that was Quinn Fabray hindered her from speaking the words _._

She stuttered helplessly. "I had... there is... ehm... my..."

The look of recognition on the nurse's face caused Quinn to flush in embarrassment, when she realized that she probably had noticed the stench slowly spreading in the room.

"Let me just get a colleague and a fresh pair of incontinence pants," was the short answer by Katie. "I'll be right back."

Quinn rested her not injured arm over eyes denying the humiliation and embarrassment that she felt taking over. Especially when she knew that the hardest part wasn't even over yet.

Katie returned barely a minute later with another nurse in tow. Quinn felt a small relief that it was a middle aged woman she had only seen twice before. It was already an unpleasant thing to have a girl only a few years older than herself taking care of her, but a couple of times she had one of the male nurses helping out.

The moment the blanket was pulled back, Quinn's eyes closed automatically. She was familiar with the process at this point. So familiar even, Quinn was almost sure she knew it by heart and would've been able to do it on someone else.

The two women were on either side of her bed. There was no hesitation of any kind as they removed the pillow that held her on her right side and let her fall back onto her back. Her hospital gown was shoved up above her navel, to the point where she could actually feel it.

The first time Quinn had been conscious while this had happened she thought that lying uncovered in only the diaper and her hospital gown was how humiliating it could get.

She swallowed a hysterical giggle that threatened to come up her throat. How naive she had been.

Practiced hands reached out and undid each of the two sets of tape strips on either side of the diaper. Then the front part was removed from her body and she lay there with her intimate area completely uncovered.

"Not too bad this time," the elder nurse commented quietly, referring to a the previous night when the laxatives had worked a little too good. She started to roll the side part of the diaper under Quinn's right side.

A moment later Quinn felt a hand on her shoulder that helped move her onto her right side. She still had her eyes closed but a rustling noise told her that one of the women had pulled out the wet wipes.

For a moment she wondered if it was a blessing, to not be able to feel them doing anything. If the ability to actually feeling somebody wipe her behind would be even more humiliating. It was usually during that moment of the diaper changing process when she thought, was surviving the accident was worth _this_?

She blinked her eyes open carefully when she wasn't put onto her back in the usual time and heard latex gloves being pulled off. Something they usually only did once they were finished. Katie gave her one more of her soft slightly pitiful smiles. "The bandage on your spine slipped a little bit. Gabby is going to change it while we're at it and we are just checking your skin very closely for any signs of bed sores."

Her eyes slipped back shut. _Just great_ , she thought. Add a little bit more humiliation by leaving her lying there exposed like that for even longer and actually having someone study the skin of her ass. Quinn wondered if it was completely irrational to hope that they wouldn't spot any of her cellulite, given her momentary situation.

Despite everything Quinn could tell that they at least tried to work fast, she had to give them that.

Once a new bandaged was fixed onto her back and a new diaper was put beneath her they would roll her onto her back and put it in place.

"Almost done," the older nurse said.

The two women used the small cloth that was beneath her bottom and lower back to pull her up towards the head of the bed. Quinn didn't know how, but she would always slip down. Never mind that she couldn't change her own position, her feet would hit the end of the bed after some time. It was unavoidable.

"We're going to leave you on your back for now," Katie said. "Just hit the button if you get uncomfortable before we come around the next time."

Quinn merely nodded. The polite well-raised girl in her wanted to say something to the nurse before she left, but she didn't really know what to say. Part of her wanted to apologize, because they had to clean her up. Part of her wanted to thank them for all the trouble. Then again, she figured what she was actually supposed to thank them for. Giving her one of the most humiliating moments of her life?

None of the nurses – not even chatty Cathy – ever talked much to her during changing. Quinn sometimes wondered if they were just as uncomfortable doing it as she was. She found it was hardly possible, but it seemed like it at times. The older one, that Quinn didn't know left the room first. Katie took a moment to turn and open the window a tad. "Just to let in a bit of fresh air," she said before turning and leaving the room.

For Quinn it was never harder not to cry.

Once she dared to open her eyes - when she felt secure that she wouldn't start crying – the first thing her sight fell on were the neatly stacked up items on her nightstand. The stuff Rachel had brought by. If she had been able to reach them properly she would have reached out and cleared them all off.

...  


Rachel was in a good mood when she entered the hospital that day. While the situation with Quinn might have been bumpy yesterday, she deemed that it wasn't entirely hopeless. Her and Quinn never got off to an easy start and given the position the blonde was in at the moment, she would probably need more patience and sensitivity than ever before to get her to open up and realize that Rachel only wanted what was best and to be there for her. And in the end Quinn may even be able to forgive her for what happened.

Full of positive energy she walked through the ICU unit, throwing the nurses that she passed a bright smile. She knocked softly on Quinn's door. The fact that there was no answer didn't stop her.

Reaching for the doorknob Rachel carefully stuck her head in. Like she had suspected Quinn was alone. She opened the door completely and stepped in with a bright smile.

"Hello Quinn!"

Not bothered by the fact that the blonde acknowledged her arrival with no more than snapping her eyes into her direction briefly before looking back up at the ceiling, Rachel came closer, reaching in her bag to pull out the reading material she had brought. Positive energy or not, that cold eye stare that Quinn gazed at her with managed to maker her nervous and she needed to keep occupied to cover that up.

"I picked up some more magazines for you. Just so you have a really broad selection." A quick look to the nightstand told her that Quinn hadn't touched any of the things she had brought her yesterday. It shouldn't have come as a surprise, still Rachel felt slightly disappointed. She had put so much thought into getting the perfect variety for Quinn. Smile still firmly planted on her face, because it took more than that to discourage Rachel Berry, she dug further around in her bag, revealing several small bags filled with snacks. "I figured you would like something different than hospital food all day long. Though I don't know if any of your injuries require some kind of special diet or if you even like any of those. I guess I'll have to check with your doctor. Or you could let me know what you're really craving for and I'll check with your doctor before getting it."

Quinn didn't answer. She couldn't. She felt that if she actually opened her mouth to give Rachel a reply she would end up yelling at her. The humiliation of the diaper changing still wasn't out of her system and Rachel showing up just blabbing away happily made her just so very angry. It was Rachel's fault she was lying in this bed, unable to move her legs, wearing a fucking diaper and Rachel just walked around talking about magazines and snacks. It made Quinn furious.

Rachel looked around self-consciously for a moment, unsure how to react to no answer. She settled for sitting down in a chair, still smiling brightly at the blonde. "It's okay if you don't feel like talking," Rachel said making a sympathetic face: She had figured that the easiest way to get Quinn to open up was treating her as normally as possible. She had thought that maybe if she could show Quinn that she didn't see her as a different person just because of her disability she would realize that it was okay to let her in. That also included not walking on eggshells around Quinn by avoiding tricky subjects.

"I know that you don't really want me here," Rachel acknowledged with a sigh. "I know you blame me, and rightfully so, for what happened. I just hope so badly that you're willing to give me a second chance. A chance to make up for what happened."

Quinn didn't answer or even look at Rachel. She wondered how in the world Rachel wanted to make up for what happened. How exactly would she do that? Give her a new spinal chord? Maybe ask Santa for one? Oh no wait, they tried that last year for Artie. Didn't work.

It took Rachel a moment to realize that even though Quinn wouldn't even look at her the shiver that went through her body actually came from the opened window not from the cold atmosphere. "Why is the window open? It's freezing in here. Did the nurses do that?" With a shake of her head she went and closed it. "Are they really that thoughtless? You are at a very high risk for developing pneumonia. It's absolutely irresponsible." Rachel stopped her rant with a drop of her hand. "Well, I guess it is – for being a February in Ohio – pretty warm. Not that I have anything to compare it to. I have never been out of the state, at least not during the winter. Have you? Well I hope you don't mind if I close the window anyway, I've always been a pretty cold natured person. Which is surprising I mean I grew up here. Normally you would expect people who aren't as used to the cold to be so easily chilly. How are you handling cold? Just thinking about it I don't think I've ever seen y-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Quinn burst out causing Rachel to stop mid-word, her lips still open from speaking.

Quinn had reached her breaking point. The talk about the open window is what sent her over the edge. For a brief moment while Rachel kept on talking she had been reliving the humiliation she had felt before when the nurse had opened it to let the smell out.

Rachel was no stranger to Quinn raising her voice and using a harsh tone, but this time it sounded so very poisonous the diva was actually frightened. For obvious reasons she didn't feel threatened by Quinn physically, but from experience that the blonde could be absolutely vicious with words.

"Don't look like a hurt puppy," Quinn went on with a roll of her eyes. "What did you expect coming back here in the first place? Suck up to my mom and Fran? For what? Avoid being sued? Trying to ease your guilt?"

It was Rachel's turn to stay quiet. What should she have answered anyway? All of the above? None of the above? Both kind of were true.

Quinn's expression was more annoyed than angry. Like she couldn't wait to finally get rid of Rachel. "Why are you here?"

"Because we're friends and-"

"We're not friends."

The statement shouldn't really hurt Rachel as badly as it did, still she felt stupefied.

Quinn laughed cruelly. "You're so pathetic Rachel! You are so caught up in this idea of us being friends. We never were friends and we never will be. You were never more to me than the pathetic girl who used to follow me around since sophomore year trying to force some kind of connection that was never existed."

Rachel swallowed again or otherwise she would have started crying, right away. The way Quinn talked to her, the way she attacked her, really, was something she hadn't experienced since sophomore year. It felt like she had traveled back in time and was looking at the girl from back then.

And Quinn was only getting started. "You're like that with pretty much everything in your life, aren't you? You followed Finn around until he caved and got together with you." She paused for a moment, before twisting the knife further. "You even got lucky enough to be with him at a low point where he had no idea what to do with his life but propose to you. How long do you think that will last for? Until he realizes he actually has better option's in his life than spending it with you?"

There was only so much Rachel would willingly have thrown at her. Gathering all her courage she started an attempt to talk back. "I know you're hurting Quinn, but that doesn't give you the right-"

"I don't have the right to what? To speak the truth? Why? Because you can't take it? Just look around you." While Quinn wasn't actually yelling, her voice definitely rose during talking, as she got herself really worked up. Her tone made it clear she wouldn't tolerate any kind of further back talk. "Nobody ever wanted you in their life and nobody ever will. Think about Shelby. You think it's a coincidence that she changed her mind as soon as she met you for the first time? She went there and adopted my baby, because she wanted someone like me, not like you. Because nobody wants someone like you."

Rachel bit her lip to keep it from trembling. What Quinn said hit a sore spot. Several one's actually.

"What, is that news to you?" Quinn was smiling a little, running on the power she realized she had over Rachel. Paralyzed or not, it felt good to know she still had the ability to crush the girl with her words. Like she wasn't as helpless after all. "Do you honestly think you have any real friends? Even in the choir room? They all tolerate you, because they know you bring the trophies."

Rachel shoulder's had sagged several verbal attacks ago. The tears that had collected started to roll over her cheeks. Gone was the determination to not cry in front of Quinn. This was worse than being blamed for the accident the other day. Rachel could handle that better because it was a punishment she rightfully deserved, but this, this was just Quinn being mean for the sake of hurting her.

Quinn remained silent for two or three seconds before getting ready for the final stroke."But none of that matter's right? Because one day you're going to be on Broadway and everyone will love you... Guess what, your voice might be your ticket out of here, but in the end where will it get you? You can get to Broadway, win several awards, in the end you will always be the girl that nobody can stand. That everyone will just keep up with you because you achieve something for them."

Rachel tears were running freely at this point. Quinn was obviously in her best form bully-wise. Nobody but her managed to expose all of her insecurities in such a thorough way and hurt her that badly. The thing that made Rachel really sick to her stomach was being able to tell that Quinn was enjoying this. It was sickening. Why was she even craving forgiveness or friendship from someone who so obviously didn't want her around? Maybe Quinn was right and she really was pathetic.

She turned her back to the blonde, taking a deep breathe and started counting to ten. She couldn't let Quinn push her away. That was exactly what Quinn tried to achieve. Rachel told herself that Quinn didn't really mean any of the hurtful things she had said to her. It had been an attempt to get her running in the other direction, so that Quinn again could cut herself off from everyone. Well, Rachel decided that she wasn't having any of it. It was her fault Quinn was in this position in the first place and she was going to help her deal with everything.

Rachel's hands quickly wiped at her tears before gripping around the back of the visitor chair tightly. She then turned around and looked Quinn right in the eye. "Those are all nice, fancy and I suppose hurtful words, Quinn, but what exactly are you trying to say? I know you're hurting and lashing out is a way to deal with that, but maybe you just need to find a way to channel your emotions better. I can help you with that. There a several techniques used that I've learned from acting classes-"

"Why don't you get it?" Quinn was so fed up with Rachel's resistance to leave she ended up right out yelling at the brunette this time. "I want you gone! I never wanted you around. I don't want you to come back here!"

Rachel stood her ground firmly, not batting an eye. "Well, too bad for you, because I'm not leaving your side."

Quinn was furious now. What would she have to do to get rid of this girl? She yelled at her, she insulted her, she threatened her and still she kept coming back. Bringing snacks, magazines and all kinds of other stupid things with her. Quinn's eyes fell to her nightstand, loaded with that crap. Not thinking about it much she reached out and tossed the first available item as hard as she could in Rachel's direction.

Rachel didn't manage to duck quickly enough. The water pitcher flying her way might have been plastic, but the grip of it was out of metal and that was what hit Rachel just an inch below her eye.

Once the pitcher had fallen to the ground with a rattle, the room went completely silent. Quinn lay there completely still and watched with an almost fascination how Rachel reached up to the bleeding cut on her cheek, looking at Quinn with big shocked eyes.

Quinn hadn't meant to actually hurt Rachel, she had hoped that having something thrown in her direction would scare Rachel enough make her leave and finally realize she wasn't welcome.

Quinn repressed the reflex to apologize to Rachel and instead just raised an eyebrow in a challenging manner. "Don't look at me like that. It's a scratch. I'm the one with the destroyed spinal cord, remember?"

Rachel opened and closed her mouth a few times, her fingertips rested against the cut. She never made it to the point where she could actually form words. She just spun around, out of the room, banging the door behind her. Deciding that she was done trying to help Quinn Fabray.


	4. Chapter 4

Hiram was shocked at the image of his daughter as she came home that evening.   
  
He had never witnessed or experienced one himself, but he was pretty sure that she was having a nervous breakdown. He hadn't seen her this upset since the break up with Finn over a year ago. Scratch that, he had never seen her that upset. Of course he hadn't been oblivious to her overall upset state of mind ever since the wedding and her friend's accident. It had hurt his heart to hear her cry herself to sleep almost every day for the last couple of nights, but this was...  
  
The distraught way she looked when she threw herself in his arms  that night was worse than anything he had ever faced. Upon spotting the small cut on her slightly swollen cheek the worst kind of scenarios entered his mind. Had she been mugged? Harassed? Had Finn hurt her?   
  
It was impossible to get an answer out of her for the first twenty minutes or so. All he could do was lead her to the living room and hold his baby-girl tight as she soaked his shirt with her tears. At a point where he was almost ready to feed her Valium the heavy sobs turned into soft hiccups as she still clung to him.   
  
When her breathing calmed down and she actually seemed capable of answering him, he leaned back a little bit to be able to look her in the eye. “What in the world happened Rachel?”   
  
Rachel sniffed lightly. “I was an idiot,” she answered. “I thought that if I tried hard enough Quinn would open up to me and let me help her...”  
  
Hiram carefully ran his thumb across his daughter's cheek. “Did she do that to you?” The information he had on his daughter's friend was limited, but he knew enough about the girl, who used to throw iced beverages into Rachel's face, to not put physically hurting his daughter past her.   
  
Rachel only nodded her head softly. While she had considered lying to her dad for a moment, she found she couldn't. The comparison didn't exactly add up but in full she felt like denying it would be a little bit like protecting an abusive husband.   
  
“She didn't mean to,” Rachel was quick to add when her dad's eyes widened in horror. She knew that Quinn didn't do it on purpose. Despite the hateful words Quinn had said to her, she knew that physically hurting her wasn't something she intended to do. The look on her face seemed so desperate and hurt. Close to the way it had on prom night, when Quinn had lashed out at her previously. “She's just hurting so badly right now and doesn't know how to handle any of those feelings.”  
  
“That's no reason to physically hurt you.” Hiram interrupted before Rachel could come up with any further arguments to protect Quinn.   
  
He frowned when Rachel stubbornly shook her head. “It was an accident,” she kept on insisting.   
  
“I don't care,” he told her firmly. “If she's the reason that's making you cry so hard you can't even talk or breathe properly you won't go back there.”  
  
Only twenty four hours ago an order like that would've caused Rachel to protest heavily, but after what happened this afternoon she didn't have the strength for it. Or even see any reason for talking back.   
  
“You won't have to worry about that,” she said quietly, slowly loosening the embrace on her father's body. “I think she made her point pretty clear that she doesn't wants me there.”   
  
He didn't know if he should've been relieved by those words, but Hiram still wished she would give him more information about what happened. With worried eyes he watched her stand up.   
  
“I'm going to bed.”  
  
Standing up as well he made an attempt to get more out of her. “Are you sure you don't want to talk? I can make you some hot cocoa.”  
  
She only shook her head and got on her toes to press a kiss against his cheek. “I'm really tired. Thanks for being there dad.”  
  
Hiram could only look after her as her even more than normal tiny looking frame slipped out of the living room and up the stairs.   
  
…  
  
Rachel remembered once seeing a cheesy 90s TV-show where a guy had suggested that a resolution for every problem could be found in a Steven Spielberg movie. While she had switched the channel a little while later, the sentence had stuck with her . She had felt that way about musicals all her life. No matter how she was feeling there was a musical number to fit her situation and help her.   
  
That was why _No Good Deed_ was blasting from her speakers as she went through her daily exercise on the elliptical the next morning. Rachel had never felt the song more. Or felt she understood the meaning behind it better.  
  
The song was at the point in the musical _Wicked_ when the heroine Elphaba reached the realization that all of the good  that she had tried to do with her power, had ended in disaster. That even though she had meant well no good would ever come from her actions.  
  
Rachel felt the exact same way about her situation with Quinn right now. She had gone in with nothing but the best intentions, trying to help her to cope with what had happened. Still here she was. Hurt – mentally and physically – and Quinn had closed off from her more than ever before.   
  
She tried to make sense of Quinn's action's and had spent half of the night tossing and turning before falling into restless sleep. Deciding that exercising didn't make any sense when she wasn't focused on it, she slipped from the machine and stood in the middle of her room, just listening to the song she'd had on repeat for a good twenty five minutes now. A bit of understanding hit as she started singing along to her favorite line.   
With her eyes closed tight and a hand pressed against her stomach, she started to sing;  
  
 _One question haunts and hurts  
Too much, too much to mention:  
Was I really seeking good  
Or just seeking attention?  
Is that all good deeds are  
When looked at with an ice-cold eye?  
If that's all good deeds are  
Maybe that's the reason why_  
  
Rachel had always found it was the most powerful part of the song, but right now she felt the true meaning behind it hit for the first time. She replayed everything that had happened in the past few days since the accident again and again and tried to reflect on her real motivation behind helping Quinn. Maybe it was true, while she of course wanted to be there for Quinn as a friend and help her feel better, the main motivation even if it was subconsciously had been to ease her own guilt.   
  
_Since I cannot succeed  
Fiyero, saving you  
I promise no good deed  
Will I attempt to do again_  
  
She had tried her best to “save” Quinn and had obviously failed. Maybe Santana had been right from the start. Quinn hadn't wanted to see anybody and they should've just accepted it. Not force her into anything she didn't want.   
  
Trying to be there for Quinn had left her with a crushed self esteem and a stinging cut on her cheek.   
  
If Quinn didn't want her help then so be it. She wouldn't force it on her anymore.   
  
With that resolution in mind she sang out the last notes of the song passionately.   
  
_No good deed  
Will I do again!_  
  
…  
  
Santana cornered Rachel when she saw her in an empty class room as the last person to pull together her stuff.   
  
“What happened to your cheek? Did Finn give you a preview of married life?” She tried to sound as nonchalant as possible. In truth the curiosity was killing her. Not only to find out where the cut on her cheek came from – Santana had a vague idea how that could have happened, but what she really wanted to know, was how Quinn was doing. The diva had successfully avoided her the day before, and just because she refused to go there herself didn't mean she had no interest in finding out how her best friend was doing.   
  
Rachel only looked at her warily. “Quinn happened,” she told her.   
  
Santana's eyebrows shot up. She had suspected something like that  Leave it to Fabray to take Rachel down even when she's bound to a bed, but it was weird that Rachel was so monotonic about it. “How did she manage that?”  
   
“She threw a water pitcher at me,” Rachel offered as explanation, her eyes tired. The determination and energy from the other day gone.   
  
She bit back a snarky comment about a water pitcher being an upgrade from slushies, but Rachel already looked down enough and while she normally didn't hold back from kicking somebody who was already down, she did want to get information from her.   
  
“How is she?” Santana asked worriedly.   
  
“She's throwing things and mean to a level that would manage to bring even you to tears.” Rachel paused and sighed. “You were right from the beginning. I should've never gone back there when she didn't want anybody around.”  
  
Santana didn't like the tone in Rachel's voice. It was resignation. Rachel sounded like she was giving up. She hated to admit it, but if there was someone who could get Quinn out of her shell it was Rachel. Of course Quinn was going to be a freaking bitch before letting anybody in, but that was just how she was. It got way worse before it got better.   
  
“So you're going back for more water pitchers today?” Santana did her best to sound as uninterested and disapproving as possible.   
  
Rachel huffed and pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “I have some self respect, Santana. If Quinn doesn't want me there, than I won't force my support on her.”   
  
Santana got a hold of Rachel's arm as she just turned to leave the room. She couldn't let it happen. She had counted on Rachel's persistence to get through to Quinn. Someone had to be there for the blonde. Santana was pretty certain that constantly buzzed Judy wouldn't be able to give her daughter much of support.   
  
“You can't just give up on her!” Santana cursed internally for her outburst. So much for appearing uninterested.  
  
Up close she could see how red Rachel's eyes really were; it was obvious she had cried not too long ago.  Her posture was just as surrendered as her voice when she answered. “Why don't you go there and have some insults and objects thrown at you. I did the best I could.”  
  
“So you're done?” Santana asked. “That's it? I never would've taken you for a quitter.”  
  
Rachel eyes fired up at that insult and for a moment the cheerleader thought she had won. “I tried,” she bit out seemingly fighting more tears. “Don't pressure me into anything just because you're too much of a coward to go back there yourself.”   
  
With that Rachel shook off Santana's hand and left the room in a rush.  
  
…  
  
Judy's fingers drew over the outline of the flasks inside her purse. Quinn had sent two nurses out the door crying already today and it looked like she was about to scare off the third one.   
  
The young nurse had seemed nervous from the moment when she entered the room. Judy wasn’t sure if it was because Quinn already had a reputation or because of the way Quinn was viciously watching every move the girl made, but it didn’t matter. Nor did it matter, the girl who introduced herself as Andrea had shown weakness and Quinn had picked up on it immediately.   
  
As a drop of fluid from the IV leaked out Quinn raised an eyebrow at the girl. “Have you even done this before?”   
  
Andrea's eyes shot up when she was addressed, insecurity visible in them. “Of course.”   
  
“Then I guess you're just an idiot who isn't capable of easy tasks?”   
  
“I assure you I'm very competent in my job and-” as the girl let go of the seemingly connected parts of the IV, the line leading from the IV bag fell off and onto the floor, leaking all of the fluid there.   
  
Quinn groaned in annoyance. “So you would be in charge of saving my life if I went into cardiac arrest right now? A person who can't even find her ass with her own two hands?”  
  
Andrea bit her lip and swallowed. “I'm really sorry.” She picked up the IV line from the floor along with the bag hanging on the holder. “This isn't sterile anymore. Let me just get a fresh set.”  
  
There were tears in the girl's eyes as she rushed out of the room. Judy gave her daughter a disappointed look. “Quinnie...”  
  
“That's three before noon,” Fran commented as she walked into the room passing by the upset nurse. “What are you trying to do, set a record here?”  
  
Quinn rolled her eyes at her sister. “It's not my fault they are all PMSing and overly emotional.”  
  
The elder sister just pursed her lips and dropped into her chair. “Sure it isn't.”  
                                 
Judy stood up a second later with a bright smile painted onto her face. “If you'll excuse me, I'm going to freshen up for a second.”  
  
“You know, we could just do shots together, mom,” Quinn called after her as she slipped into the small en-suite of the hospital room.   
  
As ladylike as she could she sat down on the closed toilet seat and fished the flask out of her purse. Shaky hands unscrewed the cap and brought it to her lips. The liquid burned as badly as ever and the taste was revolting. She'd never really liked the taste of vodka, which was ironic since it was her stress relief for almost fifteen years. The drink however had the perk that she hardly ever smelled of alcohol.    
  
This was her fourth trip to the bathroom today. Quinn had done such an extreme 180 since yesterday that it scared Judy and almost made her want the stoical quiet version of her daughter back.   
  
As of right now Quinn was absolutely vicious. No matter who from the medical staff would enter the room, Quinn would immediately detect their insecurities and throw them mercilessly in their face.   
  
As her mother it would probably be her task to set Quinn in her place, but if she was being honest, Judy was afraid that she would pull Quinn's anger onto herself if she did that. So instead Judy had made the decision to bring a big gift basket along with a generous donation for the nurses coffee cash this afternoon to apologize for her daughter's behavior.   
  
…  
  
“Cleaning up feces for a living, your parents must be so proud,” Quinn told nurse Katie as she pulled off her latex gloves and threw them into the garbage. “I guess your grades weren't good enough for med school, huh?”  
  
The nurse didn't answer anything, but just turned her back and left the room a few moments later.   
  
Quinn breathed in relief and let herself sink deeper into her cushion. That had been the last round of the day.  Nobody would bother her until the mandatory bedding round at four in the morning.   
  
She felt drained of all her energy. Being a bitch to everyone all day was exhausting, nor did she like that side about herself very much. Seeing several people leave her rooms in tears today wasn't something she was necessarily proud of. It was just that it helped her. For one people were leaving her alone. None of the nurses tried to start an uplifting conversation with her. They just came in, did their job and left as quickly as possible.   
  
It also made her feel like, despite all of her helplessness, she had some kind of control. Being outrageously mean maybe didn't change how messed up her situation was right now, but it was some kind of an outlet for all of the emotions that were slowly threatening to suffocate her.  
  
And it had helped her to finally get Rachel to back off. She had felt so relieved when the visiting hours today had ended without the tiny brunette showing up.   
  
Mostly.   
  
It was minimal, but a part of her was also disappointed. No matter how much she tried to deny it. The feeling was there.   
  
Because despite all of the peace and quiet it brought, it really meant that yet another person had given up on her because she was just so fucked up.  
  
…  
  
Sunday every single week for as long as she could remember was brunch day in her family. It was the one time that her “fully committed  to take-out” father's would put on their “I love my dads” aprons and cook a brunch that would bring the head chefs of the best restaurant in town to shame.   
  
She wasn't really surprised when she went to the kitchen that Sunday morning and found double the amount of food than usual on the table. Her dads had pampered her ever since her breakdown after getting home from her visit with Quinn Thursday night and comfort food was one of the things they did best.  
  
“Who's going to eat all of that?” she laughed when her dad came out of the kitchen carrying another gigantic plate of chocolate chip pancakes – vegan friendly of course just like all of the options.  
  
Her dad put the plate down and led her to her chair with an arm around her shoulders. “I'm not letting you up from this table until you've eaten at least half of it. I've been scared I was going to be stabbed by your collarbone every time you gave me a hug for the past week.”  
  
“Good thing I don't have to worry about that with you,” her dad threw in coming from the kitchen.   
  
Hiram gave his husband a glare. “Three pounds! I only gained three pounds! And I'm still convinced that you did manipulated with the scale!”  
  
“It's a high tech digital scale. How in the world would I be able to manipulate it?”  
  
“Don't think I didn't see the flirty looks you were giving the store clerk when we bought it,” Leroy shot back.  
  
Rachel leaned back in her chair as her parents kept on bantering back and forth with each other. She loved the way there were constantly teasing each other in a loving way. The normality of it was just what she needed after everything that had happened over the past week.   
  
Her thoughts went back from that just in time to see her dad put his arms around her daddy and peck his lips. “I don't care if you gain fifty pounds; only means there is so much more of you to love.”  
  
She rolled her eyes at the cheesy line. “Well, I'm starving, how about we get started before it gets--”  
  
The doorbell being rang insistently interrupting her. The three of them looked at each other in surprise. “Are we expecting guests?”  
  
After a communal shake of heads, Hiram shrugged and went to get the door.   
  
“You didn't invite Finn, did you?”  
  
Rachel shook her head with a huff. She had done her best to avoid her fianceé during the previous week. On top of everything that had happened with Quinn she really hadn't felt like dealing with the anger she felt towards him for avoiding any kind of blame in Quinn's accident.  
  
“Maybe it's Mrs. Hodge from next door. She's been coming by for all kinds of baking utilities lately.” Leroy stacked three more pancakes onto his daughter's plate. “I'm serious, you're starting to look anorexic, you have to eat, sweetie.”  
  
Before Rachel could answer, her mouth fell open as her daddy came back into the room with Judy Fabray by his side. The girl swiped her lips on a napkin even though she hadn't taken a bite yet and got to her feet.   
  
“Mrs Fabray, nice to see you again,” Rachel hoped that the smile on her face didn't look too much like a grimace. “What brings you here?” A terrible thought of this being an bad news visit crossed her mind. “Is Quinn okay?”  
  
Judy's smile flattered only a little. “She's fine... well, actually isn't, she's...” she sighed at loss for words. “Why aren't you visiting any more sweetie?”  
  
Rachel raised her hands defensively. “Mrs. Fabray--”   
  
“Please call me Judy.”  
  
Rachel sighed. “With all due respect, but it's obvious that Quinn has no desire for my being there. She made that very clear. And I'm not going to force my friendship on her.”  
   
With desperation in her eyes Judy took a few steps closer and rested her hands on Rachel's shoulders, making the girl fear for a moment she would shake her. “Quinn is just confused and overwhelmed with her  … condition and she isn't herself right now.” She reached out to put a strand of hair back over Rachel's shoulder. “Please come with me and see her.”  
  
“I'm sorry, no. Quinn doesn't want me there.”  
  
Judy let go of the girl and threw her hands up in frustration. “She doesn't know what she wants. How can she? After everything... Would you really just leave a friend alone who clearly needs your help?”  
  
Rachel looked down guiltily as she answered helplessly. “It's not that I didn't try... Quinn is--”  
  
“Mrs Fabray,” Hiram stepped in front of his daughter in a protective manner. “I understand that you're an upset parent worried about your daughter so I'll let it slide that you just barked in here on a Sunday morning, interrupting our family time. I can't however have you coming in here, trying to pressure our daughter into something she clearly – and for good reasons – doesn't want to do. Maybe you should have a talk with Quinn about why Rachel doesn't want to come and see her.”  
  
Seeing Judy Fabray start crying unrestrained in the middle of their family room wasn't something Rachel would have expected in a million years. The woman just stood there arms hanging loosely at her side as she sobbed and sniffed like a little kid.  
  
It was Leroy who first got over the astonishment and carefully led the blonde to sit down at the dinner table. “I don't know what to do anymore,” Judy said, supporting herself on her arms as she cried into her hands. “I know that Quinn is overwhelmed with everything, but so am I and she is just so mean and vicious … and hurting. I know my little girl is hurting and I don't know how to help her.”  
  
Rachel sat down next to Judy carefully pushing a cup of coffee in her direction. “She's not acting any different towards me. I don't see how me being there is going to change anything.”  
  
The older woman clutched Rachel's hand before she had a chance to pull back. “But it will. I know it will.”  
  
Rachel was torn. Of course the thought of going back to Toledo and seeing Quinn had crossed her mind more than once over the past two days. She felt stuck somewhere between an obligation to go back and the need for her own sanity not to. And there was the promise she had made to herself. The promise that she was done helping Quinn until she would at least apologize to her.  
  
“Why me?” Rachel breathed out when the woman kept looking at her with a pleading tearful face that just reminded her so much of Quinn right then. “Why not ask someone else?” Off the top of her head Rachel could have easily named four to five people who had an equal or even stronger connection to Quinn than she had ever had.   
  
“Because you care for her,” Judy answered. “You cared enough to come back even though she asked you not to. You did it even after she pushed you away. Please don't give up on her now.”  
  
Rachel chewed on her lower lip, taking a while before daring to look back into the woman's desperate eyes. She shook her head then slowly. “No. I can't. I'm sorry.”  
  
The grip on Rachel's hand tightened. “Please,” Judy was outright begging now. “Please come and see Quinn.”  
  
Tears were starting to collect in Rachel's eyes as well and she had to look away from the mother's tear streaked face.  
  
It was at that point when Leroy decided to step in as he gently, but firmly put his hands on either side of Judy's shoulders, going down on one knee next to her. He handed her a handkerchief. “I'm sorry Mrs Fabray, I can see you're hurting and I realize that your family must be going through a terrible time, but I have to think of my family. If Rachel says she doesn't want to go then I must ask you to accept that.”   
  
At his words it was like something in Judy flipped, as she straightened her shoulder's and wiped the tears from her face with the cloth she had received from Leroy. It was like she suddenly remembered that she was Judy Fabray. And Judy Fabray didn't just cry in a strangers family room, begging a teenager for help. “I apologize,” she told the Berry family. “I don't know what got into me. I have been behaving unacceptable.” She stood up from her chair putting the handkerchief down next to the coffee cup she hadn't touched. “I'm sorry for disturbing you. Thank you for your hospitality. I can find my way out.”  
  
As she slipped out to the doorway, Rachel went after her caught in the moment. She caught up with her just as Judy had opened the front door. When she saw the woman look at her with a hopeful face all of the apologies and words slipped from her mind. She just stood there watching the blonde woman leave with a guilt-ridden face.  
  
…  
  
At first when the PT told her that they wanted to start sitting her up in bed to slowly strengthen her circulation she sort of looked forward to it. Her PT, Julia, explained it to her in all of it's complexity. After a week of lying down flat she would right out collapse if they just lifted her in a wheelchair without preparing her, so what they would do is a step by step mobilization. That meant slowly raising the position of her upper body so the circulation could get used to sitting again. If her vitals were okay during the steepest sitting position the transfer into the wheelchair would happen.  
  
While it was great to finally have something else besides the damn white ceiling in her line of sight, sitting up turned out to be only slightly more frustrating than lying flat down.   
  
For one there is an increasing amount of pain in the part of her spine that she can feel. It start's right above the injury and pretty much just pulls up through the rest of her spine. Julia told her it's partly from the injury and partly because she has to get used to the position again. Quinn didn't really care. She was in pain and that sucked.  
  
And then there was the slipping down. It was already bad when she was lying flat on her back but for the time they have her sitting up every day she slipped down pretty much in fifteen minutes intervals. The first few times she actually tried to push herself up with her good right hand, but it had left her only more frustrated. It was exhausting to realize over and over again that it was no use to try any big movements without any control over the lower half of her body.   
  
Fran sat next to her in her usual chair, frowning over _Fifty Shades of Grey_. Occasionally she would make comments about the overuse of the word “murmur”, “mumbled” and “whispered” (“Do these people ever speak in a normal volume?”) or how it was the worst book she had ever read.   
  
“Where is mom today?”  
  
The elder one didn't even bother to take down her book or look at her. “She's in Lima this morning. Only told me about running some errands.”  
  
“Why?” Quinn huffed. “Is the local liquor store already sold out?”  
  
“Don't start,” Fran warned.  
  
“What? So I'm not allowed to make a comment about our mother's obvious alcoholism? She isn't even trying to hide it anymore. She was swaying in her chair by the end of last night.”  
  
In a frustrated gesture Fran lowered her book and put it down on the nightstand. “You know I'll have to go back to Chicago tomorrow morning, right?”   
  
“So?”  
  
“So, you'll have to drop the act just around then. You can't go all über-bitch on mom. You have managed to drive everyone else away and when those walls that you build up so persistently come crashing down, which they will, you're going to want her around.”   
  
Quinn felt her jaw clench. Absolutely unwilling to admit aloud or even to herself that Fran had made a point. Instead she just let the spiteful rush of words that worked it's way up her throat come out uncensored.  
  
“Daddy would be so proud of you,” she bit out sarcastically. “Not addressing how fucked up this family really is, was always his specialty and right now you're doing such a good job following in his footsteps. You might have been able to drop the last name Fabray, but inside you'll just always be Russell Fabray's perfect little angel, won't you?”  
  
Fran looked at her with hard eyes and Quinn knew she had hit the right nerve. Telling her sister that she was like the father they both hated with the fire of a hundred suns was pretty much the worst thing she could say.  
  
“It's true,” Quinn added mercilessly. “You can't even deny it. When you went to college you might have felt like you'd be able to disconnect yourself from his legacy, but it's just in you. You took the major dad approved of, married a guy that met his expectations, all you have to do now is drop one or two kids that you can ignore while you start drinking to make your life more bearable and you'll have our parents marriage.”  
  
That scenario was just a fear that Quinn herself had harbored about how her future would turn out. It had disappeared and she had started imagining a different kind of life for herself when the Yale acceptance letter arrived. But now she didn't have the slightest clue what kind of future awaited her or if she'd even be able to go to Yale, let alone ever have a family of her own.   
  
It took Fran a moment to calm herself down after her sister's words. “I worked through my daddy issues with a therapist a couple of years ago, Quinn. Maybe you can start working through yours once you actually start talking to the hospital therapist.”  
  
Not giving Quinn a chance for any further comments she fished her Ipod from her purse and plugged the earphones in with the volume turned up to the max.  
  
Quinn was left staring out the window yet another time. The kick she had felt at first by taking all the people around her to pieces was becoming less and less satisfying. She could feel that all those damn unresolved emotions where starting to boil in her, again with no outlet. It slowly but surely felt like some giant weight was resting on top of her chest, suffocating her a little more each day and she was pretty much out of options on how to deal with it.  
  
…  
  
Rachel lay awake for a long time the day of Judy Fabray's visit. If she had felt guilty before, the remorse was absolutely eating her up at this point. There was no longer just the fault of being responsible for Quinn's accident weighing on her. The spark of bad feeling about giving up on Quinn had turned into a blazing fire after she'd rejected Judy's desperate plead to change her mind.   
  
After the woman had left brunch was pretty much over before it had ever really begun. She hated seeing the worried and disappointed looks on her dads faces, but she still told them that she had lost her appetite and decided to go back to her room instead.   
  
She had tried to distract herself with usual Sunday afternoon activities like reading a book or watching some thing on TV but none of it managed to really distract her.   
  
Even though the decision to leave Quinn alone and not go back seemed valid and reasonable, she found herself questioning it more than ever before. Had she given up too fast on Quinn? In frustration she looked at the daunting red numbers on her alarm clock. It was past one in the morning already and sleep still wasn't an option for her.   
  
Her mind tried to recap the reasoning behind her decision to not go back. How she had listened to Wicked and came to the conclusion that all of her attempts to help out Quinn had been fruitless and most importantly grown out of selfish reasons, because going to see and help Quinn had been an attempt to make herself feel better in the end. But was that a bad thing? What would make Rachel feel better was Quinn's state improving. The selfish motivation left aside, it was actually a good thing.  
  
Rachel's thoughts turned back to the musical that had helped her to sort her feelings out before. Yes sure, in the song Elphaba made the resolution to not do anything good anymore, but in the end she didn't really stick to that for more than a couple of minutes. The opposite happened. She did the biggest good deed yet and passed the book of spells on to Glinda so she could become the good witch and be the one to make a change.  
  
Rachel pondered over that. Elphaba sacrificed herself – or at least feigned it – for the bigger meaning. So doing good deeds didn't necessarily mean that good would come from it. Just because she was there for Quinn didn't mean that Rachel would receive an open-arm welcome or even a thank you, but that didn't matter because it was the right thing to do.   
  
…  
  
Hiram and Leroy looked at each other in discomfort when Rachel announced that she would be late for dinner this Monday evening. Both of them had been ready to leave for work,but immediately dropped their briefcases and brought their full attention to their daughter.   
  
“Why?” Leroy approached Rachel slowly. “You don't have any extracurricular activities on Monday.”  
  
“No I don't.” Rachel shook her head before looking her daddy directly in the eyes. “I'm going to Toledo to see Quinn this afternoon,” her voice as determined as her face.   
  
“Oh, no.” Hiram broke in before she even had a chance to finish her sentence. “You're absolutely not.”   
  
The thought of his daughter back at the bed side of a girl that was obviously verbally and physically abusive wasn't sitting well with him at all. And with the dramatic appearance Judy Fabray had made here yesterday almost harassing Rachel into coming back, he didn't want her anywhere near that family.  
  
“I know you're worried--”  
  
Leroy interrupted this time. “More like anxious.”  
  
Rachel rolled her eyes. “I know you're worried; and what happened with Quinn hasn't failed to leave a mark on me either – literally – but I'm asking you to trust my judgment here.”  
  
The fathers looked at each other with uncertainty. Neither of them liked the idea, at all, but it was obvious that Rachel had already made up her mind. Which meant they would have to tie her up if they wanted to stop her from going to Toledo.   
  
Rachel could see her dads eyes blazing with worry. “I promise what happened the other day was an accident and won't happen again. You heard Mrs. Fabray yesterday, Quinn isn't well--”  
  
“If she's throwing water pitchers she clearly isn't well mentally.” Her dad told her firmly, with his husband nodding in agreement next to him.  
  
“It is the right thing to try and help her. Even the bible says so. _If someone slaps you on the right cheek, offer the other cheek also._ ” Rachel was determined to make her father's understand and didn't shrink back from using the big, dramatic arguments.   
  
“We're jewish, we don't have to listen to anything that Jesus said,” Leroy told her his opinion unaffected by her stand.  
  
“Dad, Daddy,” she scolded softly walking right in front of them to look them in the eye. “Can you please just try to be supportive? You raised me to follow my heart and that is what I'm doing here.”  
  
Entirely aware of a lost cause when they saw one both men held back from further attempts to make Rachel change her mind.  
  
With the feeling that he was sending her off to war, Hiram watched his daughter leave the house, sharing a look with his husband that made it obvious that neither of them approved of this at all.   
  
…  
  
Monday was the day when she was going to be moved into a wheelchair for the first time. Everyone around her seemed extra cheerful and excited. Quinn couldn't really share that excitement. Why would she look forward to sitting in that thing for the first time anyway? She would have to spend the rest of her life in it. She didn't hesitate to tell exactly that to everyone who dared to ask her how she felt about her, how they put it, “big day”.   
  
About an hour in the morning she spent just with Julia her assigned PT who moved all of her joints as usual. When that was done she raised the head of Quinn's bed and lowered the foot, leaving Quinn in a leisure chair position which looked a little bit like sitting in a dentist chair before it was moved back; to prepare her circulation for the real thing, so she wouldn't get dizzy or even collapse later when they would move her out of bed for the first time.   
  
“Well isn't this nice?” Her mother commented when she showed up at noon. “You're able to sit up for lunch and won't need any help eating.”   
  
Quinn's reply was short and had only the intention to hurt. “Let's see if you stay sober enough to do the same for dinner today.”  
  
Judy only pursed her lips at the answer briefly and then right away went on about how exciting it was that Quinn was allowed to leave her bed for the first time, what a huge step it was in her recovery process.  
  
Quinn barely listened and wondered instead what exactly the progress of her situation was. Regardless if she was lying down or sitting in a chair, the lower half of her body would still just hang there uselessly as if it wasn't even part of her anymore. So no, Quinn didn't really see anything progressing.   
  
It was four in the afternoon, her mother had already left for the day, when the moment everyone but Quinn had been waiting for, had finally come. Her vitals had been stable for the required amount of time and for the first time in over a week Quinn was actually wearing a pair of pajama pants her mom had brought her from home. It was nice not to be quite as exposed, in other words not have the diaper and the catheter leading from it on free display.   
  
Quinn's eyebrow flipped up in disbelief as someone from the PT staff rolled in a wheelchair. It wasn't the classical wheelchair like the one Artie used. They had brought in a mobilization wheelchair. Quinn remembered that her Grandmother had sat in one like this when they had visited her in the nursing home in the past.  
  
“All in good time,” Julia told her in response to her distasteful face. “There isn't only the injury on your back to think about. You had hip and shoulder surgery, for now this is the better option until your bones have had a little more time to heal.”  
  
Quinn didn't look impressed. “Whatever. Can we just get this over with?”  
  
There were two nurses, one doctor and two PT members in her room. Quinn realized that it wasn't – paraplegia aside – going to be necessarily easy to move her out of bed. She was still attached to various IV's, had a few wound drainages hanging from the different places where she had surgery done and there was the catheter. It would have been a logistical challenge to get her out of bed even if her legs worked. Despite the logic of it she didn't like so many people fussing about her, especially given her current condition.  
  
Her bed was brought back into a laying position and the wheelchair was brought parallel to the bed also in a laying position. The neurosurgeon Dr. Weiss gave the commando. “Okay, everybody, you know what you have to do.”  
  
As everyone around her set into motion Quinn literally felt like she had involuntarily ended up with the role of the patient in an episode of _Grey's  Anatomy_. Every single member of the staff had been assigned a task in order to move her out of the bed and turned to it immediatley.   
  
One of the nurses moved behind the head end of the bed and made sure all of the IV and vital lines were in order and wouldn't get messed up. The second nurse took care of all of the drainages including the catheter. The two physical therapists were on either side of her, ready to transfer her with the help of a sheet. Dr. Weiss remained at the foot of the bed observing everything with hawk's eyes.   
  
In true _Emergency Room_ fashion one of the PT's counted out loud “Okay. One, Two, Three!”  
  
Her body was lifted in the air, which felt really, really weird with the lacking feeling in her legs and pelvis and only a moment later she was brought down on the slightly harder surface of the mobilization wheelchair. They kept her lying flat there for a little while until all of the hoses and tubes had been adjusted properly.   
  
The surgeon nodded towards the PT and with the push of a button and a few seconds later Quinn found herself sitting up right for the first time since she had been cut out of her car by the rescue team over a week ago.   
  
“Good job everybody,” the doctor praised and then she turned to Quinn. “Are you feeling okay, Quinn?”  
  
The blonde only shrugged. “I guess.” It wasn't like she was feeling any different.    
  
The doctor put her hands on her hips, looking everything but amused. “I know everybody here has been somewhat tolerant of your bratty behaviour, but when I ask you a question, it's not because I want to make small talk but because I'm responsible for your well-being, so I need you to give me more than a proper answer.”   
  
“I feel fine,” Quinn bit out, not appreciating the woman's attitude in the least. “No different than before.”   
  
“Good.” Dr. Weiss seemed satisfied with the answer.   
  
Once everything was put into place Julia moved behind the chair and rolled Quinn up closer to the window, remarking that she was looking out there all day long anyway and maybe could get a better view this way. She placed a drinking cup and a couple of magazines from the nightstand on the little tray that had been moved in front of Quinn and was on top of the armrests. Quinn was pretty sure that the tray normally had the purpose of keeping disoriented patients from getting up.  
  
Julia was the last one in the room giving Quinn some basic final information. She told her that for today they would aim for no more than an hour of sitting time. During the next few days they would slowly increase that stretch to get her body used to it.   
  
“I want you to push the call button at the slightest sign of dizziness or discomfort. This isn't a test you have to pass, do you understand me? You have to tell us if you're not feeling okay.”  
  
Quinn had fixed her eyes outside and only gave Julia a nod. She was in it for barely more than a minute and she already hated the damn chair. The sensitivity ending somewhere around her navel made sitting awkward. She tried to lean forward a bit to get a better look of the outside area, but that turned out to be extremely difficult, as was any movement she attempted with her upper body. They had told her to prepare for that, and still Quinn couldn't have imagined that it would be just this hard. That it would be this bad. She tried her best to ignore the thought in her mind that it would never really get any better.  
  
“Quinn, did you hear what I said?”  
  
“Push the button when dizzy,” Quinn deadpanned. “Yeah I got it. It isn't exactly rocket science.”  
  
With a sigh the PT turned, almost knocking right into the person who was just about to enter the room.   
  
She called out to her patient. “Quinn, you have a visitor.”  
  
Rachel was irritated. She had not been prepared for such a prompt entry. She was still trying to figure out if she was really going to knock, if she was really going to do this when the door just opened and all of Quinn's attention had been drawn to her immediately by the nurse who just left the room.  
  
With Quinn's eyes boring into her Rachel remained in the door frame for a moment before plucking up her courage and taking a step closer to the blonde. “Hello Quinn.”  
  
Quinn couldn't even say she was surprised to see Rachel back. It had really only been a matter of time, before she came back. Only she hadn't expected her so soon. According to how upset Rachel had been when ran out of the room only four days ago, she would've suspected that it would take her about two weeks more to gather up the courage to come back.   
  
“Rachel,” she acknowledged the other girls presences with a nod and turned her gaze back outside. “How's your cheek?”  
  
Though Quinn's words irritated her, Rachel was relieved that it held none of the outright hatred and mercilessness from the last time. That encouraged her enough to approach her and pull a chair up to sit next to her. “Healing quite nicely. Even though I'd appreciate it if you stay clear of throwing any objects this time.”  
  
“Can't make any promises,” Quinn answered.   
  
The hint of seriousness that wavered in her voice managed to raise Rachel's nervousness again. She captured her bottom lip between her teeth, trying to remember the reasoning of why exactly she had thought this was a good idea. She fought back the urge to push the sipping cup in front of Quinn out of her reach.  
  
Quinn didn't look directly at her but was aware of the girl being antsy in her seat. While she wasn't really surprised that Rachel had come back, Quinn felt it put even more stress on her. She had been in this damn chair two minutes, trying to adjust to the feel of it. It took up all of her energy. She seriously didn't feel capable of fighting off any attempts at small talk. And she certainly didn't have the emotional energy to be mean enough to scare Rachel off again. This chair felt like it was sucking the energy right out of her. When she lay in bed it was easier to talk herself into ignoring the lack of feeling, sitting in this chair made it tremendously harder.   
  
For Quinn it was safe to say that it wasn't good timing that Rachel chose just this moment to make heartfelt conversation.   
  
“I just want you to know that I'm going to be here for your Quinn. I don't care if you throw that whole nightstand at my head. I've made up my mind and I'm not going to leave your side.”  
  
Quinn didn't respond to any of Rachel's mini monologue. Instead her eyes fell onto the brunette's hand that was nervously twitching in her lap, clearly in order to keep herself from reaching out to Quinn. She figured it was a good thing that Rachel could read her well enough to know that she didn't like to be touched in this moment.   
  
When there was no reply, Rachel took that as a good sign and tried to get a positive message across.   
  
“So how are you? Is this the first time you're out of bed? Does it feel very weird?”  
  
Quinn didn't feel strong enough to offer Rachel an answer, instead she found herself continuing to look at Rachel's fidgeding hands. It took her a moment to realize what irritated her about them.  
  
“Where's your ring?”  
  
Rachel stretched out her fingers, before lifiting her hand slightly. “It's right--” then it dawned on her. “Oh you're talking about... you mean...”  
  
Quinn's eyes darted from Rachel's left hand to her eyes. “Your wedding band.”  
  
Rachel's gaze switched between her engagment ring and Quinn's face several times before she answered. “There never was a wedding... or a wedding ceremony to be exact. We... I insisted on waiting for you and lost the spot.”  
  
Rachel felt awkward. This was almost normal conversation and that was nothing she had prepared herself for. Her preparation scenarios reached from an aggressive to an extremely vicious Quinn; but certaintly not this strange behaving version of her.   
  
She considered telling Quinn about the new date they had set for after graduation, but decided against it. Talking to Quinn about anything wedding related felt more wrong than ever. It hardened the unrelenting feeling within her that the wedding was a mistake, because what better proof was there than the girl who had said so from the beginning, sitting in a wheelchair in front of her now.   
  
“Sorry you lost your spot because of me,” Quinn told her in a quiet voice.  
  
Rachel did an actual double take. The question of whether Quinn was feeling alright stuck in her throat when Quinn – looking at her seemingly normally – suddenly slumped in the chair, her eyes rolling back in a scary looking way.  
  
Jumping out of her chair Rachel jolted forward and caught Quinn's face in her hands. “Quinn? Quinn! Come on look at me! Talk to me!”   
  
She reacted by instinct and called out a panicked “Help! We need help in here!” before even wasting a thought on looking for the nurse call button.   
  
It couldn't have been more than ten seconds later, but it might as well have been an hour as she tried to get a reaction out of Quinn by softly slapping her cheek continuously and demanding for the blonde to look at her. She had never wished for that pair of hazel eyes to open and look at her more before.    
  
The nurse that had entered the room had to use a little force to push her out of the way. The woman triggered an alarm with the push of a button and another two nurses shot into the room only moments later. While the first brought the chair back into a lying position a male nurse firmly put his hands on a protesting Rachel's shoulders and escorted her out of the room. The blinds of the small window in the door were closed shortly after, leaving Rachel with the image of the medical staff moving restlessly around Quinn's still body.  
  
Rachel didn't realize that she was crying until the young woman who Rachel had ran into when she had arrived,  pulled her into a comforting side hug. “She's going to be okay,” she promised softly.   
  
Rachel was led away from the door to the small staff room of the ICU where she slumped down on a couch, looking at the woman in front of her, full of panic.   
  
“What was that?” she asked hugging her arms around herself. “She didn't have a cardiac arrest did she? Because I am capable of doing CPR, I just didn't think of it right then. Is it even possible to do it with all of her injuries? Oh god, she'll be okay, right?”  
  
Julia – as her name tag read - put a steaming cup of tea in her hands and sat down next to her, running a calming hand over Rachel's back. “She's going to be okay. Her circulation just wasn't as strong as we had hoped. She collapsed. It looks more scarier and more dangerous than it is, I promise. And she is in good hands right now. They'll put her back in bed and stabilize her with some fluids. I bet she's already conscious again and her vitals are stabilizing right now.”  
  
Rachel tightened her fingers around the cup, wanting nothing more than to believe the brunette next to her, but she couldn't get the image of Quinn losing consciousness out of her mind.   
  
The longest twenty minutes of Rachel's life passed until one of the nurses who had come to take care of Quinn before entered the staff room and the teenager jumped up anxiously.   
  
“She's alright,” she told Rachel with a soft smile. “A little weakened, but that will straighten out in a little bit.”  
  
“Can I see her?”  
  
The nurse nodded. “Sure. Go ahead.”  
  
Not even caring for proper manners, Rachel rushed out of the common room without as much as a “Thank you” to either woman and ran back to Quinn's door. When Rachel returned to the room, Quinn had been bedded on her right side, so that her back was facing Rachel. She only took tentative steps into the room. She didn't know what to say. What did you say to a friend who had just collapsed right in front of your very eyes and when it was your fault she was in this position in the first place.  
  
Rachel couldn't bring up the courage to face her. She just stood there, looking at Quinn's seemingly fragile form, recognizing with some relief that her torso moved with calm breaths.   
  
“You know that moment when you wake up and just feel so relieved that everything was just a terrible nightmare?”  Rachel looked up in surprise when Quinn started speaking first. Her voice was hoarse and very quiet.  She had to pause as a chocked sob escaped her. “I keep waiting for it, but it never comes.”  
  
Rachel still didn't know what to answer, a few more seconds passed and Rachel felt her heart ache when she noticed Quinn was shaking heavily from crying silent tears.   
  
“I'm laying awake all night wondering what I could've possibly done that was bad enough to deserve any of this.” Quinn chuckled humorlessly through the tears. “I probably shouldn't ask you of all people this. You can probably name thirty reasons off the top of your head.”  
  
Quinn could feel her tears getting the pillow damp.   
  
“When I woke up in the wreck of my car, before the paramedics arrived, I was so afraid of dying. I just kept on thinking that I didn't want to die. That there was so much that was still ahead of me. And I felt so relieved when I heard the sound of the ambulance approaching.”  
  
She didn't know why she was telling Rachel any of this. Maybe because shedding a few tears in front of her was nothing compared to the realization of how damaged her body really was. Quinn just felt she had reached her breaking point. She couldn't even handle sitting up for more than five minutes. It was disgusting how weak she was.   
  
Quinn pressed her palm against her mouth hoping that it would quiet her sobs. The mattress dipped behind her and she didn't protest or do anything to stop it when she felt soft fingers start to to run through her hair soothingly, but all the comforting gesture did was make her cry even harder.  
  
“Now, I find myself wishing sometimes that they wouldn't have made it on time,” Quinn admitted, giving up with wiping the tears away and just balled her hands into tight fists until her nails pierced into the skin of her palm.  
  
Rachel finger's were still running through Quinn's hair and there were tears in her eyes now too. “Please don't say that,” she pleaded in a whisper.   
  
Quinn was shaken by a new wave of tears. “It's not that I want to die,” she explained earnestly. “I just don't want to live like this.”  
  
Rachel felt deeply ashamed. Her ambitions of making up for what happened seemed so petty right now. She would never be able to make up for robbing Quinn of a normal life. She couldn't even bring herself to speak out the apology that was on the tip of her tongue, because she felt that she would be mocking Quinn with it.   
  
So she did the only thing she could think of as  she kept on threading through short blond hair. Her voice was gentle and soothing as she started singing.   
  
_Whoever made the claim that words could ease the pain  
Never watched your tears fill up an ocean   
Never saw your face, the moment you found out   
That you'd have to live without, until heaven_  
  
The song wasn't entirely suitable for the situation. It was about the lost of a loved one. Rachel had discovered it during her attempt to create a playlist of comforting songs for the blonde. Ironically enough, a complete list with about thirty songs was tucked away in Rachel's handbag only a few feet away, but this was the only one she could come up off the top of her head. And it did sort of fit. Quinn might not have lost a person, but she had still suffered a great loss.  
  
 _Is there somethin' I can do other than being here for you to ease the pain  
If I can keep you from fallin', fallin' down'  
I'm sorry to sound selfish but I feel so helpless  
Is it okay if I stay here with you and cry for awhile_  
  
The lyrics spoke her true mind, because she was at loss for comforting words or actions. All she could offer Quinn was her company and comfort. Her hand came to rest on Quinn's shoulder and a moment later Quinn's clutched it tightly with her own. Fresh tears cascaded down both girls cheeks and Rachel continued with the song.  
  
 _Whoever made the claim that words could ease the pain  
Never watched you fall apart, never put you back together   
When you were broken down, into a million pieces  
Scattered on the ground_  
  
Letting go and just crying her heart out felt better than Quinn could even begin to describe. It was like all of the weight that had rested on her slowly began to lift and she allowed herself to mourn for everything she had lost for the first time. That it was Rachel to witness this breakdown was upsetting and familiar at the same time. Cause it had always been Rachel happening to be around in these moments of her life.  
  
 _Is there somethin' I can do other than being here for you to ease the pain  
If I can keep you from fallin', fallin' down'   
I'm sorry to sound selfish but I feel so helpless   
Is it okay if I stay here with you and cry for awhile to help you ease the pain._  
  
Her voice was quiet as she continued with the song and until the the last two lines when her thumb was caressing the back of Quinn's hand.   
  
_Is there somethin' I can do  
What can I say, what can I do?_  
  
They sat there in silence, still connected by their hands. Rachel still felt like she couldn't come up with anything appropriate to say. A few minutes passed when felt Quinn's fingers squeeze her hand firmly to get her attention.   
  
Quinn turned her head as good as she could and looked at Rachel with glassy eyes and for the first time since the accident actually looked as lost and helpless as she really was. Like she had let gone of putting on a strong front for the first time and allowed herself to be weak and emotional over what had happened to her.  
  
Quinn's voice was barely audible, but Rachel heard the words nonetheless.   
  
“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music:  
> No Good Deed - Wallpaper  
> Is There Something I Can Do - Five Star Iris


	5. Chapter 5

Judy felt exhausted from the meeting with the insurance company. It had been the third time she'd had to go in there ever since the accident. She wasn't used to dealing with anything major like this. Her ex-husband had taken care of everything in the past and this was the first thing she'd really had to handle by herself.   
  
She had been under the impression that she and her daughter had excellent health insurance, but with the immense cost that Quinn's hospital stay and the extensive treatment of her condition, they were giving her troubles now.   
  
As with pretty much every insurance company, they were trying to get away with paying as little as possible. They tried to put as much blame on Quinn as possible since she had been the one who wasn’t paying attention and had run the stop sign. And bills were stacking up. Not only on medical costs for Quinn but also for the driver of the truck that she had collided with. He had gotten away with a few bruises and a concussion, but made it clear that he wanted full reparation for what had happened to him. Additional to that there came the costs for the damage on his car.   
  
It all gave Judy a headache, because even though she was pretty financially secure, the costs for everything overwhelmed her. At this point there was no way to know how much everything would end up costing, but for now, Judy was able to work out a payment plan with the insurance company. What she didn’t know was how she would handle everything once Quinn started physical therapy as well as the cost the extra care and her changing lifestyle would require. Just thinking about it made her head hurt even worse, especially when she thought about Quinn’s future and Yale.   
  
Because of everything, she had even allowed herself Vodka on ice before she returned to the hospital that evening. She needed something to calm her nerves, before going back to see Quinn. Frannie had left with the demand that she'd get her act together and be a good mother for Quinn. Right now she saw no way of how to do that sober, not with everything going on.  
  
Upon arriving in Quinn's room she stood still in the doorway at the picture in front of her.   
  
Rachel Berry sat on Quinn's bedside, the tray holder between her and Quinn where she was cutting up the dinner in small pieces. What was even stranger was that Quinn seemed to allow it. There was her usual annoyed frown on her face, but none of the distaste and hostility from before.   
  
The smile that appeared on Judy's face was a genuine one this time as she greeted the two girls.   
  
“Rachel what a pleasant surprise! It's so good to see you!”  
  
She came up to Quinn's bed and leaned down to put a kiss on her daughter's cheek. “How was your afternoon Quinnie? Did sitting in the wheelchair work out? I'm so sorry I couldn't be here for it.”  
  
Quinn eyes fell down, an almost vunerable expression appeared on her face. “You didn't miss out on much. It didn't go that well.”  
  
Rachel cut in immediately. “It was only the first time. You heard what the doctor said, it takes some time and patience.”  
  
“Save your optimism for someone with feeling below their waist.” Quinn's words sounded as harsh as always, but Judy noticed with surprise that it didn't quite reach her eyes, which were taking in Rachel with some kind of softness.   
  
Rachel didn't even blink at what Quinn said but only continued with the task of arranging the now cut up food to look as appealing as possible.   
  
“I can't believe they are serving food like this in a hospital,” the girl remarked with a shake of her head. “This will hardly give you the nutrients you need for a fast recovery.”  
  
“I'd be happy with something that just didn't taste like cardboard,” Quinn replied with annoyance.   
  
“Well, what are you in the mood for?” Rachel held the fork out for Quinn expectantly. “I could prepare it and bring it with me. I'm sure we can heat it up in the staff room.”   
  
Quinn took the offered fork reluctantly and eyed the food with aversion. She started poking around in her food not showing any motivation to actually start eating. “You seem to have too much free time on your hands.”  
  
Rachel ignored the comment and kept on searching her brain for all her recipes in her repertoire. “Oh I know! I make an amazing vegan lasagna.”  
  
“Vegan?” Quinn made a disgusted face as she put a piece of cut up turkey onto the tip of her fork only to let it drop back on the plate a moment later.   
  
With a sigh and a disapproving face Rachel caved in. “I guess I can replace the meat substitute with actual meat. Though I'll have to emphasize that it goes completely against my beliefs!”   
  
She eyed Quinn's playing with her food with strict eyes. Quinn just raised her eyebrow in reply, silently daring Rachel to make a comment. Understanding perfectly Rachel just folded her hands in her lap still clearly not happy with the blondes refusal to eat, but she didn't comment about it.   
  
In the relatively relaxed atmosphere of today Judy dared to reprimand her daughter. “You have to eat, Quinnie.”  
  
Quinn's eyes blazed with anger. “Since when? If it had been up to you I'd gotten nothing but a tic-tac for each meal, for as long as I can remember.”  
  
Judy only pursed her lips as her hope for a conversation where Quinn didn't point out all of her failure's as a parent vanished. “This is a different situation.”  
  
“Exactly,” Quinn let the fork fall onto the tray with a loud rattle. “You would think that I have been through enough, so that you would just stop telling me what to do!”  
  
Quinn's head snapped in Rachel's direction dangerously as the brunette reached out to put her hand on top of Quinn's. The anger in Quinn's eyes went down a few notches while her jaw was still clenched in resentment.   
  
With her chin raised in defiance Quinn slowly turned back to her mother. “I heard the nurses talk about a Chinese restaurant down the street. Can you get me something from there?”  
  
“Of course, sweetie.” Judy got to her feet quickly, placing the strap of her purse over her shoulder. Did it make her a terrible person that she just wanted to get out of the room, away from her own daughter? She didn't bother to ask what Quinn wanted and just rushed out of the room, calling out, “I'll be back in a bit.”  
  
She made it to the entry door of the unit, her hand already searching for the flask in her purse when a voice called out for her.   
  
“Mrs Fabray?”  
  
Judy turned around to see Rachel Berry stand there looking at her with apologetic eyes. “She had a tough afternoon. The wheelchair--”  
  
In a completely untypical rush of spontaneity the woman closed the distance between her and Rachel, pulling the girl into a tight hug. “Thank you!”   
  
She had never meant those words more before in her life. Judy was certain that this wasn't the last time Quinn would be vicious towards her and she would be too weak to stay with her. It was good to know that Quinn wouldn't be alone from now on.  
  
…  
  
Rachel could barely look over the Tupperware containers she had stacked up on the kitchen counter. Her daddy looked at her skeptically from his spot at the kitchen table. “So Quinn is really hungry, huh?”  
  
Leaning sideways from the tower in front of her she shot him an unamused look. “You know very well that I like to be prepared. So I didn't only prepare a broad selection, but--”  
  
“Is there a war that I'm not aware of?” Hiram commented as he entered the room.   
  
Rachel rolled her eyes. “As I was saying, not only did I prepare a broad selection, but I also put every dish in a separate container so that Quinn can combine them how she prefers.”  
  
Hiram sat down next to Leroy giving him a look. “So we're feeding Quinn Fabray now? What did I miss?”   
  
Leroy just laughed and turned his attention back to the open document on his computer. “Only a new level of crazy from your daughter.”  
  
Rachel sighed, filling the next container with her special potato salad – that today by exception contained real cut up eggs and non-vegan mayo. “It wouldn't hurt you-”  
  
“Wait a minute,” Hiram interrupted her yet again as he spoke to his husband. “How comes she is my daughter whenever she's acting crazy?”  
  
Leroy shrugged. “She obviously gets the mental illness from your side of the family. May I remind you of your great uncle Ronald?”  
  
Her dad looked up from the computer screen in an appalled manner. “How many times do we have to go over this? The lawsuit was dropped!”  
  
“Only because he was lucky enough to loose the pack of matches after burning down the sheep stable.”  
  
“It was a short circuit in the electrical--”  
  
“Dads!” Rachel called out in annoyance. “Would you mind not comparing me to a man who set his farm on fire because his neighbor criticized the way he had painted it?”  
  
“He did not--” Hiram didn't get to finish his statement, as Rachel lifted her hand to silence him.   
  
“I'm not acting crazy, alright?” she defended herself. “I'm merely doing a nice thing for a friend who is hurting very much right now. It was both of you who taught me the value of comfort food. Admittedly I might have gone a little over board but what happened to her was more than just a bad break up.”  
  
The men sat in silence once she had finished her rant and went back to work with an exasperated breath, turning all of her attention to the chicken breast that she had just unwrapped. She had more than a little hesitation against touching the meat and timidly poked a finger into it, as if to make sure it was really dead.   
  
It was her daddy Leroy who came to join her behind the kitchen counter first. He pulled her into a comfroting side hug as they both looked onto the dead bird in front of them.   
  
“You have absolutely no idea how to cook this, do you?”  
  
She shook her head in defeat. That was the reason why she had saved all the meaty dishes for last. Cutting up eggs and melting cheese hadn't been that much of a problem, however she had no idea how to marinate a chicken or know how to grill the perfect medium rare steak.   
  
She looked up her daddy with a helpless look. “Neither do you, right?”  
  
With a dramatic sigh – that Rachel most definitely had inherited from him – Hiram joined his family, standing at the other side of his daughter. “Lucky for you I come from a family of passionate meat lovers.”  
  
Leroy shoulder bumped Rachel. “What did I tell you?” He made a motion with his finger. “Loony family.”  
  
…  
  
Julia stood at the foot of the bed with a motivational smile on her face. “Ready for another try?”  
  
Quinn didn't even bother with feigning the least bit of excitement or even looking up from the magazine that was opened in front of her. Not that she was actually interested in how Kristen Stewart had worn a pair of shoes that didn't match her purse either, still it was better than going through the devastation of not being strong enough to even sit in a chair for more than five minutes.   
  
“I'm not feeling up for it today,” she lied bluntly. “Getting me out of bed is probably not the best idea.”  
  
Julia looked at her suspiciously. “You didn't mention anything about feeling unwell to any of the nurses at any time today.”  
  
Quinn narrowed her eyes. “Maybe I was feeling okay until very recently.”  
  
Taking a quick look at the monitor and the file in her hands Julia shrugged. “Your vitals look fine.” It was obvious that the PT could not be sold short that easily.   
  
She eyed her with a challenging expression. “Are you ready to take the chances? What if I collapse again? You wouldn't want to be responsible for that, right?”  
  
Julia chuckled at the defensive attitude of her patient. “I think I'm willing to risk it.” She came around to Quinn's left side. “How about we start of with some easy in bed exercises?”  
  
Quinn sighed and dropped her hand to the bed in defeat. “Do whatever you want.”  
  
“Now that's the excitement I was hoping for,” she remarked sarcastically and started to remove the reading board from the bed. Once she had put it away she started to undo the sling that held Quinn's left arm to her body.   
  
As she slowly brought the arm in a stretched out position her eyes never left Quinn's face, looking for any sign of discomfort. “You'll have to tell me when it starts to hurt.”  
  
Quinn rolled her eyes. “And you have to come up with some new lines.”   
  
The blonde didn't bat an eye as her arm was soon completely stretched out, even though it had started hurting like a bitch ever since the sling had been removed. The physical therapist bended and unbended her joint a couple of times.   
  
“You go to school with the girl who was here yesterday?”   
  
“No, she's my probation officer,” Quinn deadpanned.   
  
Julia shook her head with a small smile and started to move Quinn's shoulder joint in different positions. “She was really upset when you fainted. For a little while I thought we would have to give her a sedative to calm her down.”  
  
Quinn only huffed. Of course. Leave it to the drama queen to have the medical staff take care of her when Quinn was the one who lost consciousness. God forbid the attention wouldn't be on Rachel Berry.   
  
Even though she found herself more tolerant of the diva after she had been there for her yesterday, she still hadn't completely let go some of the resentment she had towards her. Having her witness yet another breakdown – the worst one ever – made her feel vulnerable. She liked to be the one in control and admitting how afraid and devastated she was to Rachel made her feel like she had left Rachel with too much power over her.     
  
Her arm was moved to an outstretched position where her upper arm was next to her head and Quinn couldn't contain her pain anymore. “Fuck,” she cursed silently.   
  
Carefully and slowly returning her arm to a less painful position, Julia nodded seemingly satisfied. “Good improvement. Only a couple more days and we should be able to remove the sling. You're lucky you're so athletic. You have strong muscles, that helps to stabilize the broken bone.”  
  
The thirteen year old girl that was still inside her would probably never get over the fact that someone called her athletic.   
  
After five more times of moving her arm in the way that made Quinn bite her lip in agony, Julia finally stopped and brought it back into the sling. “You're making great progress and I'm pretty sure you'll have no circulation issues by next week. We can start working on some weight lifting then.”  
  
“Weight lifting?” Quinn's eyebrow shot up to her hairline. “Am I entering the Paralympics?”  
  
Julia chuckled as she pulled the blanket from Quinn's lower body. “Not quite. Even though with your good physical shape I wouldn't put it behind you to go to the Paralympics one day.”   
  
She started working on bending Quinn's legs,  putting the foot that Quinn didn't really recognize as part of her body into her line of sight. “No seriously. Our goal is to heighten the strength of your upper body as much as possible, since it will be the part of your body that helps you move on your own. The fact that you have a broken arm makes that harder of course.”  
  
Quinn watched her ankle being moved around as she took the words in. Just my luck, she thought dryly. Of course, not only was she paralyzed, but she also damaged the parts of her body that she could still feel and move to the point where they were no use for her.   
  
The exercise finished on her left leg, Julia moved to the other side and repeated everything she had done there.  
  
She ended with a massage of Quinn's calves and thighs that was supposed to keep her from getting water retentions or a thrombosis.   
  
When Julia looked at her expectantly after finishing the exercise program, Quinn still had a dismissive look on her face. “What makes you think I'm up for leaving the bed now that you made my whole upper body hurt?”  
  
The PT rolled her eyes and reached for the remote control of the bed. “Fine. You are granted a reprieve until the afternoon, but I won't take any excuses then.” She hit the button on the device to get Quinn into the leisure chair position. “Can I trust you not to move the headrest or do I have to lock the remote?”  
  
In response to the glare Quinn gave her Julia wordlessly locked the remote and put it out of her reach. She brought the reading aid back to the bed and clipped the magazine Quinn had been browsing into it.   
  
“I'll see you later, Quinn.”  
  
…  
  
Quinn looked at her with big eyes when she came into her room that afternoon, bearing exactly sixteen different colored Tupperware boxes.   
  
Rachel only beamed at the blonde carefully putting the containers down on the nearby table. “I promised you home made food and I aim to please.”  
  
Quinn could only shake her head in disbelief, as Rachel started to organize the food into different categorizes. One for meat, one for fruit and vegetables, another one for carbs and the last one for everything liquid. She ended up with four neatly put stacks on the table in front of her, when she turned to Quinn with a smile.   
  
“You see, I figured if we want to make sure you have a balanced diet, only one meal clearly isn't going to cut it, so I though I'd bring you multiple choices that we can store in the staff's fridge and give you an option for a three meals a day throughout the next two days.”   
  
The staff of course hadn't been too happy with her request of taking up so much space in their fridge, but she had managed to convince them with a home made lasagna, a vegan one this time. She might have bended them to make sure Quinn would be happy, but that didn't mean she had let go of her beliefs.   
  
“You're overcompensating, I think you should see somebody about that,” Quinn did her best to sound as unimpressed as possible. At the same time she couldn't keep her eyes from darting to the stack of food over and over again. Quinn was pretty sure everything in the containers was cold and it still smelled delicious to her and it only made her realize just how hungry she really was. There wasn't much she had put in her stomach so far today. A piece of toast and a cup of coffee for breakfast and half of the watery chicken soup for lunch with a few spoons of Jell-O for dessert.   
  
Completely aware of Quinn's obvious appetite, Rachel smiled softly and sat down next to Quinn's bed. “If you want I can heat up something for you now. What are you in the mood for?”  Rachel fished two pages out of her purse and handed them to Quinn. “One of these is a list with all of the things I brought categorized alphabetically, the other one is a suggestion of combination's.”  
  
Quinn studied the list up and down. There were several options that had her mouth watering at the mere prospect.  
  
“Oh, but wouldn't it be even better to enjoy your meal outside of bed?” Julia stood in the doorway with her arms crossed and an amused look on her face.  
  
Quinn glared at her physical therapist.  
  
Meanwhile Rachel gave the woman a friendly smile. “Hello Julia.” She stood up and extended her hand. “I fear due to my slightly upset mood yesterday I didn't have a chance to properly introduce myself, I'm Rachel Berry.” She considered for a moment to add that she was a friend of Quinn's but thought better of considering her shaky status with Quinn.   
  
The older brunette shook her hand with a friendly expression. “Nice to see you again.”  
  
“I'd also like to take this opportunity to thank you for your support,” Rachel lowered her voice a bit, feeling sort of awkward that Quinn keow how upset the fainting incident had made her. She felt it wasn't right, that she was the one being upset when Quinn was the one who it had actually happened to. Still she had to let the PT know that she was indeed very thankful that she had helped her yesterday.  
  
Julia just waved her off. “Don't worry about it. It was nothing.”  
  
She walked further into the room exploring the table covered in food with interest. “Wow, did you do all that? That looks great.”  
  
Rachel nodded as modestly as she could, because even though she didn't want to make a great fuss about it, she was still Rachel Berry and lived off of other people''s praise.  
  
“What a shame, I still have to eat the hospital food,” Julia turned her head to Quinn. “You know that we get the same stuff that you do in the cafeteria, right?”  
  
Quinn's glare didn't waver. “Don't expect pity from the paralyzed girl.”  
  
“You know, what this hospital serves as food is a real scandal,” Rachel told Julia with a shake of her head.   
  
Julia shrugged. “Tell me about it. And don't even get me started on the options they offer for vegetarians like me.”   
  
Quinn watched in annoyance as Rachel's face lit up with an idea. “You know if you want I could bring something for you when I stop by tomorrow. I have some excellent vegan specialties I could make you as a thank you for yesterday.”  
  
“Actually that would be--”  
  
“I don't think it's Rachel's job to supply this hospital's staff with food,” Quinn's tone was extremely sharp as she interrupted the conversation in front of her.   
  
Both brunette's looked at Quinn with frowns, clearly caught off guard by the snarkiness in her voice.   
  
“So what, are you here for small talk or to get me out of this bed and into that damn chair?” Quinn asked harshly, looking at Julia expectantly.   
  
Ignoring the weird behavior of her patient's mood swings, Julia just shrugged and nodded. “Sure, just let me get my colleagues.”  
  
When Julia left the room, Rachel sank down into her chair silently. She would've very much liked to scold Quinn about her rude behavior, but decided that she wasn't in the place to do it. Not while she was trying to get back on Quinn's good side.  
  
“So do you think you're feeling well enough for being moved into the wheelchair? You're not dizzy or anything are you?”  
   
Quinn just shrugged looking at her nails. “I guess so. Not that it would mean anything. I felt fine the last time and then they had to pump me full of infusions for about twelve hours to get me stable again.”  
  
She tried to act as nonchalant about it as she could even though her emotions were all over the place. Not only was she annoyed with the noesy physical therapist that clearly overstepped her boundaries by asking a teenager to bring her food – hello, you have a paycheck don't you? Just go buy some yourself! - she was also afraid that her body would fail her once again.   
  
Quinn had always had body issues. In her early teenager years she had felt captured in body, that she felt nobody could ever find attractive. And after she had left Lucy behind, she felt that everything anyone ever saw was a beautiful face that nobody cared what was she really like. When she had been pregnant with Beth, there had been that whole other little person constantly taking over and telling her what she should eat or do or act like.   
  
However, all of that seemed silly in comparison to how much she felt a prisoner in her own body right now. Not only for the obvious reasons, like the lack of feeling or bladder control. It happened to her multiple times a day that she would catch herself making a decision to do something like reaching for a book on her nightstand or getting a a napkin from the table across the room, and then the dread of realizing that she wasn't able to caught up with her. No matter how many times it happened to her it would always be just as devastating as the first time.   
  
Quinn was terribly afraid that feeling would never go away.   
  
...  
  
“Rachel? Hey, wait up!”   
  
Finn felt relieved when he saw his fianceé actually stop in her tracks and turn around to face him. He caught up with her in a few steps and immediately closed his arms around her, placing a kiss against her lips. “Hey Rach.”  
  
She returned the kiss and his smile, but Finn couldn't get rid of the feeling that he still wasn't on solid ground with her. With the thought in mind that she always appreciated courtesy, he offered to take the book she held in her hands as well as her backpack. “Here, let me walk you to class.”  
  
Before all of this happened, a gesture like that would have gotten him major plus points with her, but now she only managed a weak smile and a “Thank you” as she accepted his hand as they started walking down the hall.  
  
“I was at your house yesterday around ten,” Finn said. “Nobody was home. Not even your dads.”  
  
“Oh they had to move their date night to Monday this week, because their favorite author had a reading and a book singing  in Columbus,” Rachel explained, not really into the conversation.   
  
“And where were you?” he kept on probing. Finn was getting fed up with her ignoring him. His text and calls had been ignored for almost a whole week now and at school she acted distant and cold.   
  
“I was with Quinn,” she told him looking irritated. “It got pretty late because we decided to watch a movie after dinner.”  
  
“How is Quinn?” While he was generally interested to know how Quinn was doing, Finn was mostly annoyed with the blonde at the moment. Bad accident or not, guilt tripping Rachel into spending all her time at her bed side wasn't something that he appreciated very much. Especially not with the possibility of Quinn keeping up her anti-marriage talk.  
  
“Holding up well considering the circumstances,” Rachel answered vaguely.   
  
Finn frowned. He realized that she had given him that answer before. It was always the same answer, but he didn't really know what was going on with Quinn. He wasn't an idiot. He had seen her car at the wrecking yard when he had gone with Burt to pick up some rare spare parts. The car had been pretty much wrecked. It was obvious that Quinn hadn't gotten away with just a few scratches.   
  
“What exactly are the circumstances?” he asked bluntly. “I know you're pretty much spending all your free time sitting at Quinn's hospital bed but I have no idea what actually happened to her.”  
  
The way Rachel bit her lip showed him that she was everything but comfortable with this question, which only made him more curious. What in the world could have happened to Quinn that made her, and now Rachel, treat it like a government secret.   
  
“She fractured multiple bones,” Rachel answered finally.   
  
His hope that she would explain to him more was dismissed when Rachel came to an abrupt stop in front of the girl's bathroom door. “I have to make a stop here, you should go to class, Finn. You're on the other end of the school and I don't want you to be late.”  
  
With a sigh he called out for her one more time causing her to turn around.   
  
“I miss you, Rach,” he told her sincerely. “Look I know that you're upset about what happened, but I just miss spending time with you. Just the two of us.”  
  
Rachel sighed and looked at him with a guilty expression.   
  
“Maybe we can go out tonight? To that vegan place in Columbus that you like so much? Just to take your mind off of all the bad things that have happened.” All the bad things that surrounded the wedding he really would have liked to say. It was like Quinn's accident made her connect their wedding – their relationship really – with something bad. Not with the good stuff like that they loved each other and wanted to spend the rest of their lives together.   
  
The girl shook her head hesitantly. “I'm really not in the mood for dressing up and going out at the moment, I'd--”  
  
“Then how about we watch a movie at your place tonight?” He asked desperately. “Nothing fancy, just the two of us. I really do miss you.”  
  
“I'll probably be in Toledo tonight and I don't know--”  
  
“A movie, Rachel, come on. I'm trying here,” Finn interrupted her attempt to protest.   
  
“Fine,” Rachel gave in with a soft smile. “You pick a movie and be at my house at eight.”   
...  
  
“Is the water okay for you?” Rachel felt like a professional hair dresser asking that question.   
  
“It's fine,” Quinn breathed out, keeping her eyes closed.   
  
She wondered only briefly how in the world she had ended up with her head hanging in the inflatable washbasin that had been placed in her bed with Rachel shampooing her hair. One moment Quinn was devouring one more of Rachel's Tupperware containers making a seemingly unimportant complaint about how disgustingly greasy her hair was when the next thing she knew Rachel had gotten a nurse to her bedside who helped her move the mobile lavatory into the bed.   
  
Quinn figured it was her own fault. She had tolerated Rachel for a second too long in a moment of weakness and now she wasn't getting rid of her anymore. Rachel seemed to have found her fulfillment in the role of Quinn's personal nurse.   
  
It had started out with little things like cutting up her meal and refilling her drinking cup. That had been Monday. On Tuesday Rachel had shown up with an insanely amount of food put away in Tupperware boxes. Quinn might have rolled her eyes at the absolute over-the-top gesture, but in the end she couldn't deny, that everything Rachel had prepared was absolutely delicious.   
  
Rachel poured a bit of the flowery scented shampoo into her hands and warmed it by rubbing it between them. She was so glad to finally be able to do something instead of just sitting by Quinn's bedside, waiting for the blonde to finish her drinking cup so she could refill it again. Once she was sure the shampoo had a pleasant temperature she started spreading it generously through the blonde's hair. The angle was sort of awkward because she stood to the right side of Quinn's head and had to lean over a bit to reach both sides of her head properly.   
  
Making a mental note to ask the nurse to move the bed away from the wall the next time so she would be able to just stand there, Rachel started carefully massaging Quinn's scalp, working the foam into the admittedly greasy hair.   
  
As Rachel's hand kept on working she noticed during an occasional slip how very tense Quinn's neck was. Without thinking about it, she let her hands slip a bit lower and started to massage the area as far as she could reach without the wash basin blocking her. In satisfaction she noticed how Quinn's features seemed to relax a little bit along with the muscles in her nape.   
  
When an unintelligible tone left Quinn's lips Rachel abruptly stopped her actions. “I'm not hurting you, am I?”  
  
“No,” was the brief answer and Rachel just shrugged her shoulders and continued her work with dedication.  
  
When a strand of her own hair landed in Quinn's face, the blonde to screwed up her face at the tickling feeling and looked up in irritation. Rachel met Quinn's eyes with an apologetic soft smile. “Sorry, I'll think about bringing a hair band for myself the next time.”   
  
For the first time, Quinn was aware of how close Rachel had actually moved into her personal space in order to wash her hair and the relaxed expression vanished from Quinn's face.  
  
“Yeah well, just finish already and rinse the soap out. That sickeningly sweet, flowery smell is giving me a headache,” she told her a little more harshly than she had intended.   
  
The words wiped the smile right off of Rachel's face and her hands drew back from Quinn's hair, reaching for the rinsing cup. “Of course. I'm sorry. I'll make sure to get something a little bit more neutral the next time.”  
  
When Rachel had made sure that all of the soap was gone from the blonde hair  and all the water had been drained out of the inflatable basin, she reached for the prepared towel and wrapped it around Quinn's head.   
  
As arranged earlier Rachel pushed the button to call the nurse in order to help her get the sink out of the bed. Once that was done, Quinn watched in irritation as Rachel started to gather her stuff. It was only 6:30, normally the brunette wouldn't even speak of leaving until past eight.   
  
“You're going home?” Quinn didn't mean to sound quite as disappointed, but whether she liked to admit it or not, Rachel keeping her company was a good thing. Annoying or not, Rachel kept her from staring at the wall for hours before falling asleep and distracted her from the pretty dark thought that would occupy her mind during that time.   
  
Rachel seemed uncomfortable with the question as she stepped from one foot to the other clasping her purse and the few empty Tupperware containers tightly in her hands. “Yes, I have plans with Finn tonight.”   
  
“Oh.” Quinn pursed her lips. “Well have a good time then.”  
  
“Thank you,” Rachel nodded, but her feet refused to start walking outside the door for some reason. She had immediately picked up on the notion that Quinn wasn't too happy about her leaving and it managed to make her feel guilty in the split of a second. “Unless there's something you need. I mean you're okay right?”  
  
The undecided, uncomfortable look she gave Rachel was absolutely calculated, but Quinn forced the question she should have asked herself, of what the hell she was doing here, trying to guilt trip Rachel into staying. “I really don't want to keep you from your plans with Finn,” she told her. It was another deliberated lie, but no matter how much she didn't want to be alone, she wouldn't outright say that to Rachel.  
  
She could see Rachel struggling with the decision of what to do. Finally with a sigh and a look at her watch, Rachel caved in. “Finn will understand, if I'm a little late.”  
  
The Tupperware containers were put down on the nightstand and her purse landed on the chair. “So, what is it? Are you in pain? Should we repeat the exercises Julia showed us?”  
  
Quinn shook her head. After the hair wash her shoulder was indeed a little sore but at the same time, Rachel had already entered her personal space as much as she could handle right now.   
  
“Is something else bothering you?” Rachel asked tentative.    
  
Quinn couldn't come up with an answer for that. There were about a million things on her mind bothering her every minute of the day, but speaking any of those out loud was nearly impossible for her. She'd shown so much weakness to Rachel already and making herself even more vulnerable by admitting that she was afraid to be alone was not an option.   
  
“Maybe we can just watch a movie or something,” Quinn found herself suggesting instead.  
  
“Sure, just let me text Finn and my dads quickly, then we can go select a movie.”  
  
As Quinn watched Rachel fish her phone out of her purse and type something into the touchscreen. Besides the  relief that she wouldn't have to spend the evening by herself, there was also the distinct feeling of satisfaction that Rachel would just blow off Finn without a second thought, when she asked her to. She didn't even have to ask her really.   
  
Once the phone was put away, Rachel smiled at Quinn. “Okay what are you in the mood for. Anything particular?”  
  
She shrugged. “I don't know. Just pick something.”  
  
Rachel immediately busied herself with taking the I-Pad from the nightstand and scrolling through the Netflix account. She looked up shyly. “Would you be completely opposed to watching a musical?”   
  
“As long as it isn't something cheesy like _The Sound of Music_.”  
  
Rachel fingers wandered over the touch screen for a while, before her face lit up. “How about _Rent_?”  
  
Quinn nodded. “Sure, whatever.”  
  
The lack of enthusiasm made Rachel hesitate. “We can choose something else, I mean--”  
  
“No, it's fine.”   
  
Quinn wasn't excited about the movie she had chosen, but truthfully at the moment there wasn't a movie that would be able to get her excited. A musical about with bendy, dancing, happy people, wouldn't make her hate the world any less than a slapstick comedy or any kind of drama.  
  
Rachel attached the reading board to the bed and clipped the I-Pad in. Then she pulled her chair up so that she was at the same eye level with Quinn and leaned back in her chair as the movie started. “I think you'll like this movie.”  
  
Raising an eyebrow at that, Quinn only looked at her briefly as the credits started rolling over the screen. “Why is that?”  
  
“I find that it gives hope and not in an unrealistic kind of way. I mean all of these people have issues and they're not going away, but in the end they learn that life isn't about waiting for every bad thing to just go by, but learning how to be happy in spite of the problems.”  
  
Quinn only huffed. “I'm not quite at that point in my therapy sessions, so excuse me if I can't quite agree with you on that.”  
  
Rachel refrained from saying anything else. The movie had started anyway. She cursed herself mentally for even saying something as thoughtless in the first place. She knew that Quinn was playing the strong unreachable one once again at the moment, but not for a second could she forget about the crying broken girl that had been in desperate need for comfort the afternoon before.   
  
That moment yesterday was the reason why she hadn't hesitated for more than a couple of seconds when Quinn had shown that she wasn't comfortable with her leaving so soon. Rachel had no illusions that her decision to stay here would lead to a fight with Finn, but in the end she had to set her priorities, whether to leave  a friend in need alone, or spend the night with her fianceé so his ego wouldn't be bruised.  
  
…  
  
Rachel recognized the shape of Finn's car in her drive way the moment she turned onto her street. She pulled up next to him and turned the engine off. Her heart ached with affection when she found him asleep in the driver seat. His head leaning against the window. She knocked softly at the glass and watched him wake up, looking around disoriented for a moment. She pulled the door open and kissed his cheek tenderly, running a hand through his hair.   
  
“Rach?” he asked, still looking half asleep.   
  
“Why are you out here?” she wanted to know.  
  
Finn yawned and stretched his tense muscles caused by his uncomfortable sleeping position. “Your dad acted really scary when I suggested waiting in your room.”   
  
Rachel only shook her head with a smile. Leave it to her overprotective father's to find it inappropriate for the boy she planned on marrying to be alone in her room. She took Finn's hand in her own. “Come on,” she said pulling him with her towards the front door. “My dads should be asleep by now.”  
  
She unlocked the door. “We'll just have to be really quiet,” she told him. “They usually have a pretty deep sleep, but we can't take any chances.”  
  
Once they'd made it to her room, undiscovered, they both sat down on her bed and Rachel started playing with Finn's fingers, looking down at their jointed hands.   
  
“I'm so sorry I couldn't make it tonight”.  
  
“What kept you?” he wanted to know.  
  
Rachel sighed getting up from the bed to shut off the main light in the room now that the night light was on, not missing the upset undertone in his voice. “Quinn still isn't feeling well and I couldn't just leave her alone.”  
  
As he was slowly starting to wake up, Finn's initial confusion disappeared and looked at her with blaming eyes instead . “But you could leave me alone?”   
  
Rachel looked at him warily. She didn't have the energy to have this fight all over again. It was close to midnight and after getting up at five this morning she just wanted to go to bed and bring this nineteen hour day behind her.   
  
“You know if it was me just blowing you off like that, I'd never hear the end of it,” he told her.   
  
Rachel dropped her hand from where it was still caressing his hair, slipped away from him and shrugged off her jacket. “I said I'm sorry.”  
  
“Do you have any idea how long I waited for you?”  
  
“Well that's hardly my fault, is it? I texted you saying I wouldn't be able to make it on time.”  
  
“Tonight was very important to me, Rach,” Finn said accusingly. “It was important for us.”  
  
Rachel wondered when exactly her life had turned into this permanent guilt fest. With an angry huff she got up from the bed standing in the middle of the room. “Don't act like a martyr Finn. I have waited multiple times on you in the past where you didn't even have the decency to text me to let me know you weren't going to show up.”  
  
“Don't turn this on me, okay? You are the one who let me down tonight!”  
  
“And I apologized for it!”  
  
“That doesn't change anything and this pisses me off!”  
  
Rachel groaned in frustration and fled into the bathroom. She slammed the door behind herself and took a deep breathe holding onto the sink in front of her. She knew Finn  wouldn't be to be happy about her canceling on him tonight, but the way he was acting just unreasonable. He acted like she had cheated on him or something!   
  
No more than a minute has passed when she heard a knock on the door.   
  
She turned to open it and found a Finn looking at her, a little more apologetic. “I'm sorry,” he said and took her hand in his.  “Can we start over?” he asked carefully. “I was just really looking forward to tonight and disappointed when you canceled.”  
  
With a sigh, she let herself be lead back to the bed where they both sat down. “I'm just trying to be a good friend to Quinn. She was in this terrible accident and she isn't coping well.”   
  
He nodded in understanding and brushed his fingers through her long hair. “You have to stop letting her guilt trip into something, Rach and try to remember who you're dealing with.”  
  
Rachel met his eyes full of irritation. “What do you mean?”  
  
“It's Quinn. She'll manipulate you into something because you're useful to her right now. She knows how badly you want to be friends with her and she is just using that against you.”  
  
The amateur psychology her fianceé tried to apply to this more than difficult situation was more than Rachel was capable of discussing right now. She let her head fall against his head. “I don't want to talk about this anymore. We both had a long day.”  
  
Finn nodded, not entirely happy that she just dismissed his arguments like that, but ended up pressing a kiss to the top of her head.   
  
“I really did miss you today,” he told her, tightening his embrace around her. “The whole last week.”  
  
Rachel only sighed and cuddled into the familiar embrace closing her eyes. She had missed him too, of course she had, but she couldn't understand why he made such a big deal out of it. It was simply a really busy time right now. She didn't want to let Quinn down, now that she faced such a difficult time in her life and school wasn't giving them a break either. Graduation was coming up and Ms Sylvester made sure to remind them on a daily basis that they weren't ready for Nationals yet and left them with a harder training than ever before.   
  
Her train of thought was broken when Finn started pressing small kisses to the length of her neck. Allowing herself to relax at the tender gesture she sunk deeper into his embrace until he found her lips. She enjoyed feeling both of their lips sliding together in unison. His kisses stayed chaste, but the hand that worked his way from cupping her neck under the collar of her shirt, slowly but determinedly started drifting lower.   
  
With the intention to let him down as gently as possible, she placed her own hand on top of his where it caressed her collarbone and intertwined their fingers. She carefully moved his hand to the more innocent part on her upper back. It was obvious that he hadn't gotten the message when he kept up the caress on her neck and started to slip his fingers down her back under her shirt.  
  
When she felt him reaching and working on her bra claps she pulled away from his kisses and put her hand on his upper arm, stopping his ministrations.  “Not tonight okay? I had a really long day.”  
  
He searched her eyes for a second, searching for any sign that she was just teasing him. When he didn't find it, he pulled completely away from her and made a noise of frustration. “Will you stop avoiding me any time soon?”  
  
Rachel shook her head, cupping his cheek. “I'm right here Finn. I'm not avoiding you.”   
  
“You're being distant,” he argued, shaking off her gentle touch.   
  
“Because I'm not willing to sleep with you?” Rachel huffed, being the one to move away from him this time. “That is ridiculous.”   
  
“Do you even still want to get married?”  
  
The accusation behind the question hurt her and she'd ended up looking at him angrily.“Are you seriously doubting my love for you just because I turned down sex?” she huffed.  
  
He crossed his arms stubbornly. “Just answer the question, Rachel.”  
  
She pressed a hand against her forehead, between the discussion they were having right now and the exhaustion from the day, she was slowly starting to get a headache. She didn't understand why he was acting like a bratty child that was about to throw a fit in Toy's R Us because he hadn't gotten what he wanted.    
  
“How can you doubt me like that? I love you!”   
  
He stood up from the bed, his posture even more defensive than before. “Then stop pushing me away.”  
  
“Are you implying that I should sleep with you to prove you how much I love--”  
  
“Let's spend the evening together tomorrow,” Finn interrupted her. “Just the two of us. We'll go on a real date, get dressed up, go see a movie, go to dinner...”  
  
Rachel sighed. It was true that they hadn't done something like that in what felt like forever, still she found herself shaking her head. “I can't. I have to meet my vocal coach tomorrow and after that--”  
  
“Cancel it,” Finn demanded of her. “Come on, it can be that bad if you miss one session.”  
  
“I already missed my lession last week, I have to--”  
  
Frustrated Finn made his way across the room away from her, throwing up his hands. “I get it. Everything else is more important than me. Sure, of course.”  
  
“Why are you acting like this?” she asked in a small voice, thrown back by his anger. For the life of her she couldn't understand why he was overreacting like this. She had said no to one date, not threatened to leave him.   
  
Not bothering to provide her with an answer, he made his way out of the room. “I'll see you in school tomorrow. That is if you're not too busy.”  
  
Rachel lay awake for a long time after he had slammed the door behind him. It was only when she was about to drift off to sleep when she realized that she never answered his question, whether she still wanted to marry him. Nor did she have an easy answer.  
  
…  
  
Finn wandered through the halls of the ICU aimlessly. The information clerk at the front desk had told him that he would find Quinn here, but had failed to tell him in which room exactly.   
  
What he expected from coming here he didn't really know. The idea had popped up in his mind when he had seen Rachel driving off after school, after she had spent the day ignoring him.   
  
Not that he could necessarily blame her after the idiotic way he had acted the day before. It had been a complete overreaction, but it was only because he felt her slipping away from him. He was afraid of losing her; afraid that every moment she would spend at Quinn's bedside instead of with him would drive her further away from him. That whatever kind of mind game Quinn played would actually end up with Rachel having second thoughts about the wedding. About him.   
  
Finn might have been not the smartest guy ever, but he wasn't stupid. Rachel was the best thing that had ever happened to him and he would just be lost without her. She was his future. He had no idea what he actually wanted to do with his life, but he knew that Rachel would be in it. Like they said in that silly movie Rachel had made him watch once; if you had the person that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with you, you wanted the future to begin as soon as possible.  
  
Quinn was the person who kept on insisting that the wedding was a mistake and she threatened that future.  
  
Still despite all of that he had no idea what his plan was once he'd caught his fianceé in the lie she had made about vocal lessons or whatever. Drag her out of Quinn's room and demand that she'd never see her again. It was true that Rachel had a soft spot for dramatic gestures, but somehow he doubted that she would appreciate just this one.  
  
After asking a nurse for Quinn's room, he followed the direction's she had given him, knocking on the door insistently. When a faint “Come in” sounded through the door he hesitated only a moment before entering.   
  
To his surprise the room was empty, except for Quinn who sat in a big dentist chair like chair by the window. A hundred expressions crossed her face at once when she turned her head and saw him standing in the doorway.  
  
He came closer to her, giving her a small wave. “Hey Quinn.”  
  
After the initial moment of shock her face had returned to a neutral state, her voice however dripped of despise. “What are you doing here?”  
  
Trying his best to not be intimidated by her attitude, scary Quinn was extremely scary – he still moved closer to her. “I came to talk to Rachel. Is she here?”  
  
“She has vocal lessons today as far as I know.”  
  
While Quinn kept on glaring at him he took a moment to look at her. Her position in the chair was a little slugged, in an totally untypical way for Quinn, since she usually sat like she had swallowed a ruler. There were fainting greenish bruises on her face and her arm was in a sling. There were several lines and hoses all over her that would have made her seem kind of vulnerable if it wasn't for the evil eye she was still giving him.  
  
Burying his hand in the pocket of his jeans he looked at her with uncertainty for a moment. “So how are you?”  
  
“Just peachy,” she answered sarcastically, never letting him out of her sight. “Is there a paticular reason why you're here or is it just to ask stupid questions?”  
  
“I wanted to see how you were doing,” he improvised, still completely thrown off by the fact that Rachel wasn't here. “We were all really worried about you and since I know Rachel is pretty much here on a daily basis, I thought I could chip in today, since she has voice lessons and all that.”  
  
“You just asked if Rachel was here,” she told him matter-of-factly.   
  
The gaze she eyed him with made him break out into sweat of panic as he stuttered himself through an explanation. “Yeah, well I wasn't sure if that was today or tomorrow and I figured you would like somebody to visit you.”  
  
“Did Rachel set you up for that?” Quinn's eyes narrowed. “Because I swear to God, I'll--”  
  
Finn sighed and sat down on the edge of the empty hospital bed. “She has no idea I'm here, okay. I just wanted to see you and see how you were doing.”  
  
The blonde rolled her eyes, turning her eyes back to the magazine in front of her and started to browse through it where she had left off. “Well now you saw, what next?”  
  
“Well, I don't know,” he shrugged. “Yeah I mean, wow, Quinn you have been in this major accident... what … I mean … Rachel only said something about broken bones. Are you going to be okay?”  
  
Quinn didn't look up, but turned the page of People with a little too much aggressiveness so that it ripped partly.   
  
When there was no reply he leaned forward a bit trying to get a better look at her face. “Quinn?”  
  
“Bad weeds grow tall, right?” she replied tightly.  
  
Unsure whether to take that as a joke or not Finn just gave her a lopsided smile. “Well, I'm glad to see that you're okay.”  
  
“Yeah I'm sure,” Quinn told him with a huff.  
  
“What's that supposed to mean?”  
  
“You don't give a damn about whether I'm fine or not,” she said looking him directly in the eyes this time. “You're here to check up on Rachel, because you can't stand not being the fucking center of her attention for more than two minutes.”  
  
At his flabbergasted face she only chuckled a little. “What? Am I wrong? You're afraid that because you weren't able to tie her to you by marriage she'll realize that she actually has a better life ahead of her than spending it with a Lima Loser fixing tires?”  
  
Finn's jaw clenched at her words. Quinn had always been good at getting under people's skin and right now it felt like she had gotten into his brain, telling him an awful thing that he hadn't even allowed himself to think out loud, because it was so terrible.   
  
Recovered from his initial surprise of her hateful words he stood up standing right in front of her. He had always been taller than Quinn but with her sitting down he actually towered over her. “You were against the wedding from the very beginning,” he huffed. “I don't really know why... maybe because you were jealous or angry that I choose Rachel over you--”  
  
Quinn laughed at the accusation. “Don't be ridiculous.”  
  
“Whatever it is, I won't let you keep on feeding Rachel with those stupid thoughts, that the wedding is a bad idea, just because you feel like you have some kind of power over her by blaming her for the accident.”  
  
“I don't blame her for the accident,” Quinn stated calmly.   
  
“Of course you are, you're guilt-tripping Rachel into--”  
  
“No,” she raised her voice. “I don't blame Rachel. I blame you. Only you.”  
  
Finn's eyes hardened, but he didn't say anything.  
  
Quinn slapped the magazine in front of her shut. “I blame you, because you pressured her into marrying her in the first place. You proposed to her because you couldn't stand the thought that she could actually make something out of herself that had nothing to do with you. You couldn't stand the thought that you'd have to follow Rachel to New York where we both knew you wouldn't have any of your high school big shot quarterback glory.” She paused for a moment, regaining her breathing to a normal level. “I blame you because I had an accident on the way to a wedding that had only little to do with your feelings for Rachel but everything with making you feel better about yourself.”  
  
Finn had stood there in silence during Quinn's rant, his anger raising with every word that left her mouth. “You manipulative vicious cu--”  
  
“What is going on here?”   
  
Neither of them had noticed Rachel coming into the room and both of their heads snapped into her direction immediately. Finn didn't know how much of their conversation she heard, but he figured that Rachel would have lost it already if she had heard his last words.  
  
“Finn came by to see how I'm doing,” Quinn bit out. “Because he's just such a thoughtful guy.”  
  
Brown eyes darted from Finn to Quinn and back several times. “What is this about?”  
  
His try to distract her was pitiful, but he still had to try. “Vocal lessons already over?”  
  
“Were you yelling at her?” Rachel finally turned to Finn in disbelief. “Were you seriously yelling at our friend who hast just been in a major car accident and is being treated in the ICU?”  
  
“She provoked me...” He heard himself as the words left his mouth and realized how stupid the “ _She started it_ ” sounded.   
  
Despite her height Rachel could be surprisingly strong when she wanted to and she dragged Finn from Quinn, closing the door behind them.   
  
“What in the world is going on with you?” she hissed. “What are you even doing here?”  
  
Finn knew that he was pretty much screwed. Rachel was mad beyond reason and he couldn't even blame her. He clearly had been out of line, it was just that everything that Quinn said had made him so angry.  
  
She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him expectantly. “Well?”  
  
He sighed. “I wanted to see you, okay? I thought if being here with Quinn was so important to you, you'd appreciate it if I was here with you.”  
  
It wasn't exactly a lie. If Quinn hadn't acted the way she had, that would have been what he had done. It was only the obvious way in which she was against the wedding that had made him go out of line.  
  
Rachel shook her head and clutched a hand to her neck. “You didn't even know I was going to be here. I didn't even know until an hour ago, when my vocal coach told me she had an family emergency and couldn't make it today, that I was going to be here.”  
  
“Well isn't that convenient?” he mocked her. “So you couldn't have called me when it got canceled?”  
  
Rachel threw her hands up. “Oh my God, I can't keep on having this fight over and over again.”  
  
“Then just start being honest with me!” Finn exploded. “Be honest and tell me you didn't want to spend time with me.”  
  
“Can you blame me?” Rachel yelled at him. “You have been acting like a raging lunatic!”  
  
“Hey!” A nurse broke into their fight looking at them angrily. “This is an intensive care unit, I have seriously ill patients here. So take your 90210 drama and take it out of my unit!”  
  
The sharp rebuke had Finn's anger deflating a little, he sighed and looked at his fianceé with sightly softer eyes. “We should talk somewhere private.”  
  
Rachel shook her head, decisively. “I can't talk to you right now.”  
  
Finn raised his voice one more time. “Why, because of Quinn? Are you--”  
  
Tiny hands started to shove at his shoulder's pushing him away from Quinn's room towards the exit. Once they were outside of the unit she snarled at him in a way he had never experienced before. “This has nothing to do with Quinn! I can't talk to you right now because you're acting like an idiot, I can't be held responsible for my actions if I do!”  
  
With those final words she left him standing outside the door to the ICU and as it hit him that his intervening had her managed to divide the gap between them even more. Angrily he slammed his fist against the closest by wall.   
  
…  
  
Quinn was burning with anger, which was a good thing considering that there was no way she would collapse today, because her blood pressure was probably through the roof. The nerve of him to show up there and just act like... ugh... like he was God's fucking gift to women. The arrogant way he had stood there and literally looked down on her.   
  
Her head turned to the door when she heard the soft click of it opening.   
  
“Was this your idea?” she snapped at Rachel. “Some kind of weird ass intervention by letting Finn show up here unannounced. I swear to God, Rachel, if he let's so much as a word--”  
  
“Shut up, okay?!” It was the first time Rachel had ever raised her voice towards Quinn and even though it was unintentional, an apologetic look appeared on her face only a moment later, it felt absolutely liberating to not just be on the receiving end of the snide words for once.   
  
Quinn had never been good with somebody contradicting her and almost two weeks of barely anyone giving her back talk had made her very touchy now that it came. “The hell I will,” she barked out. “After your fianceé just waltzed in here verbally assaulting me because of some injured pride and insecurity?”  
  
Rachel didn't even blink at Quinn's outburst, instead she crossed her arms and looked at the blonde calmly. “We both know you give as good as you get,” she stated. “Finn might have been out of line, but we both know you're not the victim by any means.”  
  
The blonde took a deep breathe in order to calm herself down. Her hand was however still shaking when she reached up to bring a strand of hair out of her eyes. Her eyes looked up tentatively at the diva. “I can't... I have to know this, Rachel... did you tell him anything about...” she left the sentence open, still having a hard time bringing the words past her lips and fairly certain that Rachel knew what she was referring to.   
  
Rachel's expression softened a little bit. “Of course not. Not without your consent. I wouldn't do that.”  
  
Quinn felt some of the tension leave her body and let her head fall back against the headrest and closed her eyes.  
  
“Why are you so afraid of anyone finding out?”   
  
As the adrenaline level in her blood sunk, Quinn found it remarkably harder to keep her eyes from watering up. So when she opened her eyes again, Rachel was all blurred.   
  
“They'll … I can't... How...” She started several attempts to give Rachel a good argument, but failed every time. “Nobody can know.” Quinn ended up saying. “They just can't.”  
  
Rachel pulled up a chair and sat across from Quinn. “You don't have to make an announcement in the school paper, Quinn... but I know a certain group of people, that will never judge you or treat you differently.”  
  
Quinn kept on shaking her head. “No. I can't. Look at me,” she exclaimed. “I can't even sit up properly for more than an hour.”  
  
Croaking her head, Rachel smiled softly at her. “Two days ago, you only managed ten minutes. That's an improvement of over 500 percent.”  
  
“Spare me.” Quinn glared at her through shiny eyes. “Just make sure that something like today doesn't happen again.”   
  
Rachel sighed. “Finn was being an idiot, but that doesn't mean everybody else will. They are your friends, Quinn...”   
  
“It's not an option, alright?!” Quinn protested and gathered what was left of her energy after the exhausting afternoon. “I can't have anybody see me like this.”  
  
“I'm seeing you like this,” Rachel reasoned softly.   
  
“It's not like I got lot of say about that,” Quinn mumbled. “Couldn't really get rid of you.”  
  
Rachel chuckled a little. “Not for lack of trying, though.”  
  
That managed to get a small smile out of Quinn. “No, certainly not.”   
  
“What are you afraid of?”  
  
“Being treated differently?” Quinn sighed. “Treating me like I …” She rubbed a hand over her eyes and groaned in frustration. “I don't know okay? I just know that I'm not ready to see anyone yet. Can you just accept that? Please?!”  
  
“Can you at least try and not shut me out?” Rachel asked, putting her hand on top of Quinn's. “I promise not to judge you, or treat you differently. I just want to be there for you.”  
  
Quinn lowered her eyes. It wasn't like she didn’t feel bad for trying to push away the one person who was trying to help her, but at the same time, she felt like she shouldn’t be judged for her actions right now either. Everything was just such a mess.   
  
“I can try, that's all I can offer you right now.”  
  
Rachel smiled and squeezed her hand. “That's all I'm asking for.”  
  


 


End file.
